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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093131">Love on the Road</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pazzypoo/pseuds/Pazzypoo'>Pazzypoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love on the Road [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Gun Violence, Long, M/M, Motorcycles, POV Niall Horan, Protective, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:27:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>89,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pazzypoo/pseuds/Pazzypoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall Horan is a boy who fears danger. Zayn Malik defines it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne/Original Female Character(s), Niall Horan/Zayn Malik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love on the Road [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are a lot of things in this life to be content with. </p><p>I am a relatively healthy non-smoker, who lives with another relatively healthy non-smoker in a dorm room overlooking the sprawling gardens of the academy I attend. I can’t seem to find any issues with our plumbing, not that there would be any issues to find, and I am always well-fed. Despite the stigma that comes with living in a dorm, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a packet of instant noodles. I must try them. </p><p>My parents, as suffocating and strangling as they often make out to be, have shown to me in these past few eventful weeks that they are standing in my corner as a support system. Who would’ve thought that something I imagined as being the sole downfall to our family legacy would actually bring us all together? </p><p>Coming out to my parents and peers came seamlessly. Nobody blinked an eye or assumed the worst about me, they moved on with their lives and thought of me as the same; nerdy Niall Horan whose head was shoved so far up a book that he barely noticed life going by. A couple hundred years ago, I’d probably be hanged for telling my parents about my sexuality and now, they’re celebrating me with multiple phone calls a day ensuring that they are proud. </p><p>Worst of all, besides outing my deepest darkest secret to everyone I know and respect, my best friend and roommate saw it as an opportunity to become even more overprotective – if that were even possible. He’d ask me who I was dating, clearly knowing that the answer was nobody and tell me to stay uptown and away from any danger. </p><p>I am content. I am very content. And I love to tell myself that. </p><p>It was mayhem on campus this time of year. Everyone was freaking out about the end of year exams and all of the practice exams that came before them. My roommate, Liam, had erected a board of flash cards defining sections of the brain for his psychology class on the mirror and it was all I looked up at as I studied for English Lit. </p><p>‘…Whether Plath utilises the vivid temptations of a prefrontal cortex-’</p><p>“Liam!” I grunt, furiously erasing the mention of the front part of the brain out of my Plath essay. “You really have to put your flash cards somewhere else, because this is turning into a psychology report.” </p><p>He walks out from the bathroom, all-encompassing five foot nine with his towel draped around his hips. Shaggy brown hair falls to his forehead and he shakes it about, I’m sure splashing droplets everywhere. </p><p>“I have no choice but to ace that practice exam.” He ushers toward the cards. “Besides, you don’t see me complaining about that atrocity by the dinner table that forces me to look in the other direction.”</p><p>I scoff, offended, as he motions to the sculpture of a bird that I had created in a Saturday ceramics and sculpting class they had on campus. I only took part in it because for once I had no homework or studying to do and I couldn’t stay at home idly. </p><p> “Hey! You said you liked it.” </p><p>“I say a lot of things Niall,” he grins once more and I sigh, staring back at my essay knowing I couldn’t stay mad at him. </p><p>“Well, I don’t think I’m ever going to finish.” I mutter, shaking my head. “You would think an author with this many daddy issues would be easy to write about.” </p><p>“That’s the best part of her, isn’t it? She doesn’t play nice.” He smiles, now grabbing a towel off the ground to dry his hair. </p><p>“You like a rebel?” I raise an eyebrow expectantly and he chuckles. </p><p>“I like Sylvia Plath. Besides, you don’t even need to be writing an essay. You’ve already written about 20 in the last week about her and are guaranteed the highest mark.” I always seemed to roll my eyes at this. I love him, I really do, but all he does is assume things about me. I was hardly guaranteed anything. </p><p>“So what do you want me to do? Sit here and grovel?” </p><p>“Well… yeah? Turn your mind off and watch some TV for once. I feel bad that my parents bought us such a big and unused TV.” He points to the one hanging on the wall and I sighed, knowing we never used it at all. </p><p>“Perhaps I do need a break.” I mutter, throwing my pen down and shutting my notebook. Even hearing the pages close and hit each other felt a little bit cathartic. I scoop up the remote, point it to the TV and collapse to the couch with Liam taking the seat next to me hastily. I narrow my eyes at him. “But this is the last time I take a break before these exams. I need to get back to my essay.” </p><p>“If you wanna’ study so bad, put some flash cards up.” He motions to those that are stuck to the mirror with a grin. “I can study just by sitting here.” </p><p>I simply roll my eyes and glance up at the first channel the TV flicked on which broadcasted the Bradford Nightly News. </p><p>“Ugh… Turn it off.” Liam utters when faced with the boringly obnoxious news anchor who was treated like a celebrity in our city. </p><p>“Yeah… yeah… I’m getting to it.” I chuckle as I point the remote at the television once more. Before I can press a single button, I’m halted by words in red which took over the screen; ‘Breaking News!’ </p><p>“Wait – wait a second.” Liam halts me and we both stare at the screens blankly. I could almost bet any money it was another report regarding that gang in downtown Bradford that was making headlines everywhere. They were called The Damned… or The Dead… maybe it was The Dreadful-</p><p>“Bikie gang known to police and witnesses as The Damnation have struck again with multiple reports of a suspected hit and run.” My eyes widen as they flash the CCTV footage of a motorcyclist pulling up to someone in the streets with what I can decipher as a gun out of their pocket. The footage cuts as the reporter continues. “Leaving one man dead and another fighting for life, police can only presume the notorious gang are behind yet another dreadful attack.” </p><p>“Christ – they’re relentless, aren’t they?” Liam murmurs beside me. “All I hear is them in the news.” </p><p>“Now going to the Police Chief,” the camera pans to the burly looking man in uniform in an opposing window of the screen. “What can the public do due to the growing presence of gangs in Bradford?” </p><p>“Stay inside and stay safe.” The police chief warns. “The latest events have indicated to police that the suspected motorcycle club and another gang are in some sort of turf war and we do not want any citizens to be caught in the cross-fire.” </p><p>“W-What did he say their gang was called again?” I whisper over to Liam with widened eyes as I watch the screen again. It showed a still image of the motorcyclist from the CCTV footage and I squinted my eyes. </p><p>“The Damnation, I think.” </p><p>“Hm… I like that name.” I quickly rip my eyes from the screen and hand the remote over to Liam. “It’s… interesting.” </p><p>“What low-lives.” He scoffs as he changes the channel to some soap-opera that has been running for far too many years. “They need to be locked up for good. It’s silly that we can’t even go downtown without worrying about getting shot.” </p><p>I tuck my bottom lip under my teeth as he continued. </p><p>“Not that we’d ever go downtown anyway…” He chuckles off and I sigh at another one of his rants. I saw a lot of my father in Liam. They loved being at the top – I don’t think they’ve ever looked down. “The place is crawling in scum.” </p><p>“Yeah.” I had no choice but to agree with him. “They have a cinema there, don’t they?” </p><p>“Yeah, we went there to see the new Avengers movie and I wanted to leave the entire time.” He chuckles and I sigh at the memory. I couldn’t help but flinch when we went downtown. There were always reports of robbery and debauchery and it was known around campus as the birdcage as a lot of prisoners resided in a halfway house in the main street. </p><p>It put a lot of things in perspective for me and I had never felt so safe in my life being locked up here in my dorm with my best friend and all of the things I needed to study for. School was my biggest worry now that I have come out and I cherished that. For some people, I can’t imagine what their biggest worry is. I don’t think I ever want to find out. </p><p>“I better get back to my essay.” I snap and stand to my feet walking toward my desk. Despite his pleas for me to take a break and watch TV with him, I only ignored him. I had to take advantage of my privilege and get the top of my class. I had to do what I was born and bred to do. </p><p>Halfway through the final paragraph, something twitched inside of me. Ensuring Liam’s eyes were glued to the screen and he was paying no attention to what I was doing, I hastily removed my phone from my pocket and placed it where I was meant to write. </p><p>The first thing I search up is ‘Downtown Bradford news’ only to get small articles regarding agriculture and local businesses… things I definitely wasn’t searching for. I change my subject and type in ‘The Damnation Bradford’ to welcome an onslaught of all types of news stories. </p><p>‘Hit and run…’ </p><p>‘Robberies…’ </p><p>‘Murder suspicions…’ </p><p>The list went on and on and I bit my lip and looked around the room. I was so far away from all of that heinous drama and decay. While I had a lot to complain about, I knew I was content with what I know I don’t have to face or deal with. </p><p>A part of me wanted to know how it felt to be free. But the smarter part of me wanted to stay locked up here forever.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not surprisingly, that night I finished my Plath essay and edited it to the point where this morning I felt it would be appropriate to hand in to my teacher to have a look at. </p><p>He was very surprised to see me within the school grounds on a weekend, knowing the vast majority of students were out on the town and actually living a life. It felt like I was the only person on campus considering Liam was with his family today.</p><p>“Niall, please just – go home.” He huffs to me, folding his arms and leaning against the desk. “This is the 16th Plath essay you have handed to me that I have absolutely no issues with. I haven’t even read this and I know it’s going to be exactly the same.” </p><p>I couldn’t help but grunt. </p><p>“But what do I need to improve upon? What does the examiner want?” I almost beg him for this information. He folds his lips. </p><p>“I’ve told you that answer before and I think you know that.” His eyes narrow. “The only thing that will be good for you, right now at this point in time, is to stop all of this incessant studying and worrying and live a bit of your life.” </p><p>Live a bit of my life? What the hell does he mean by that? </p><p>“But… This is my life?” It came out as though it were a question. “My dad has big expectations of me, and I know he wants me to succeed-”</p><p>“A lot of faculty here at this academy know that some students, like yourself, with parents in high positions worry about bringing their family pride.” He begins. “But unlike them, you’re pushing it too far. You’re trying to outdo your father and every single academic achiever we’ve ever had through these halls. You’re missing out on a lot of your life, Mr. Horan.” </p><p>I blink at this reply. I failed to see the issue in devoting my life to reaching success and truly becoming something of myself. </p><p>“I’m a firm believer in working towards what I want.” I shake my head. “And I know… I know my dad and how lucky I am to be in a position where if I wanted, I could have a job the rest of my life with him. But I want to do something for myself. I feel like I’ve never properly had anything for myself.” </p><p>“If you want to find yourself – you won’t find it in writing 16 Sylvia Plath essays in a week.” I felt my cheeks warm up at this comment, humiliated that I was planning to go home and perform my 12th practice exam for math. </p><p>“Well…” I place down the essay back on his desk. “I guess I will go and do that.” </p><p>“It will do you good.” He smiles down at me. “Go out and experience life – that is what is going to help you, not only on your exams, but in every other aspect of your existence.” </p><p>“Okay.” I lie with a huff. “I will go and do that.” </p><p>He gives me a warm smile and a nod and as I turn on my heel to leave, he clears his throat. </p><p>“You’re forgetting your essay.” He calls, looking down at the paper I strategically left on his desk. </p><p>“Oh please just read it!” I plead, dropping my façade and forcing out what sounded like a whine. God… I really am pathetic. “I did spend majority of the night working on it.” </p><p>“Okay fine.” He shakes his head. “But this is the last one I correct. I’m happy to discuss the exam with you but I need you to figure things out yourself because I’m at the point where I’m starting to become a little underqualified.” </p><p>I guess I took it as a compliment and grinned at him. </p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Morton.” It almost made me want to go out and do something for myself. “I’ll go and do something besides study, I promise.” </p><p>“Good. I will see you on Monday.” </p><p>As I left campus and made my way towards the dormitories, I couldn’t help but frown. I really was a sorry excuse for a teenager. Freshly 18, I should be out drinking and partying… or whatever else 18-year-old people do. Instead, I’m trying not to think about studying before my brain explodes. </p><p>I had no desire. Not at all. I needed to focus on perfecting this slice on my life so I can move onto perfecting the next part.</p><p>Nobody really liked me here at school. While I did become the token gay over-achiever, I knew I didn’t have nearly as many friends as Liam and I could tell people would get sick of me answering every question in class. </p><p>It wasn’t as though I’m not self-aware. I’m just as annoyed at myself. I can’t help but want to do better. </p><p>I felt a buzzing in my pocket and almost groaned seeing my mother’s contact pop up. </p><p>“Mother,” I huff, answering her. </p><p>“I’m just calling to let you know how proud I am of you.” She starts and I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“Yes… Thank you. I know you’re proud of me.” </p><p>“Really, I am. It takes a lot of bravery to come out and tell people you’re gay.” It was very heart-warming that she made this type of effort knowing the reputation her and the family had to uphold. I couldn’t be luckier. </p><p>“I’m not a disappointment to the bloodline?” I joke earning an almost offended sigh. </p><p>“Of course not!” She tatters on. “Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t marry someone who is going to help the family.” </p><p>Here we go. For as long as I can remember, my mother had tattled on about finding me the correct mate to settle down and start a family with. She began this discussion with me when I freshly become a pubescent boy at the late age of 14. </p><p>I knew the plans to marry me off to a wealthy woman and together we’d have a sham marriage due to my… gayness… and we’d then have about 6 children to keep the Horan name. </p><p>“Mum, I don’t want to think about that right now.” I shake my head. “I mean, I have exams coming up.” </p><p>“Don’t be silly Niall.” She chuckles. “We’ll sort out any arrangements after your graduation.” </p><p>I pause and stop walking. </p><p>“You do realize that an arranged marriage will not work for me.” I state harshly. </p><p>“Who said anything about an arranged marriage?” She scoffs. “We just want to introduce you to people who are going to steer you in the right direction. We won’t force you to be with anyone and only want you to marry for love.” </p><p>My eyebrow is raised expectantly. </p><p>“Is that the only reason you want me to marry? For love… really?” </p><p>She pauses. </p><p>“Yes. Yes, of course.” I rolled my eyes and kept walking knowing that marrying for love came second on her list for my future. </p><p>“Well… I am not looking for anyone or anything right now. Let me focus on this.” </p><p>“Yes, I promise I will do just that.” </p><p>She continues on for a couple of minutes about some pocket of gossip that is going on within her friendship circle and after sitting through a round of her lecturing me about something else – I barely pay attention – she tells me she loves me and hangs up. </p><p>As I pocket my phone, I felt something inside of me cringe. All of this pressure… I don’t know when I’d escape it. I have absolutely no plans to meet anyone – I don’t think I’ve ever been able to articulate to myself that I have feelings for anyone. And here my mother was… planning my future. </p><p>Mr. Morton’s words came to my head and I felt this sudden urge to just get out and live a bit of my life. Nothing crazy, of course. Maybe I could head downtown and catch a movie. I had never gone to the cinema by myself before and in a way, it seemed therapeutic. </p><p>I run up to my dorm and shove on my favorite yellow t-shirt and a pair of blue fitted jeans. After looking myself up and down in the mirror and feeling oh-so utterly proud of myself for even taking a step in this direction, I felt all of my guilt beginning to build. </p><p>It’s a Saturday, Niall.  </p><p>I know it’s a Saturday… but I want to get top of my class. </p><p>Oh, just go out and live, you loser. </p><p>Sometimes I really felt disdain for myself. </p><p>Knowing Liam had the car the two of us shared, I thought I’d catch a taxi into town knowing that I hated the bus. </p><p>I didn’t really see what the gripe Liam and my parents had against the downtown area of Bradford. There were a lot of older buildings and bars with shady characters, but I copped a few smiles as I walked the streets and the cinema was always bursting with life. </p><p>“This isn’t so bad.” I whisper, walking up to the counter and ask for a ticket to see whatever was showing soonest to the current time. I paid and walked to cinema 6 – where they were screening some action movie, I had heard a few guys around school talk about. It wasn’t quite what I was after, but this spontaneity wouldn’t hang around for too long and I had to take advantage of it. </p><p>The movie I found rather entertaining. The protagonist was fearless and so rebellious and cool. I could never imagine being like that. </p><p>As we all piled out of the theatre, I glanced up at the darkening blue of the sky indicating the late afternoon. The streets were starting to build up in foot traffic and I gulped. This is the first time I had ever been alone in Bradford or anywhere without Liam. </p><p>No – if this is what it takes to ace my exams and I learn to do something for myself, perhaps this will be all worth it. It was so very tempting to grab out my phone and call a taxi to take me back home, but I wanted to take it a step further. </p><p>I walked around the streets a little – noticing just how ominous alleyways looked at this time. There was an obvious presence of danger lurking about. Whether that stemmed from the impossibly long lines to get into bars or the shadiness of everyone who passed me, I couldn’t help but gulp and shove my hands into my pockets. </p><p>Just keep your eyes down, Niall. I was too afraid to look at someone the wrong way and earn a punch straight to the face. My mind tapped into the movie I just saw. While it was littered with cheap CGI and action scenes that I knew defied the laws of physics, I had to channel that exuberant and very adult confidence. Perhaps it was imperative in my plight to come out of my shell and just… just live a little. </p><p>Hm, how do adults live? My eyes snapped immediately to a convenience store with adjoining alcohol shop within it. Adults drink alcohol… I guess? </p><p>I can’t afford a hangover… but I have never even tasted it. I immediately stalked over – not only to follow some unrealistic expectation I had of myself, but also because staying out on the streets was giving me the creeps. </p><p>The fluorescent lights in the store made me gulp. The floors were far from clean and the attendant behind the counter was lazily looking at his phone. I squinted my eyes behind him to the monitor on the wall with four screens highlighting the parts of the store. I was the only one in here and I gulped, knowing that if I was going to buy something alcoholic, it would be without the pressures of someone else watching me. </p><p>I make a beeline to the aisle with bottles and bottles of drinks I hadn’t tried before. I didn’t need to have much; I only needed a little bit. Just to taste and experiment… yeah, experiment. </p><p>Whiskey… gin… vodka… </p><p>Nothing looked appealing. I think it was the complete and utter stillness of the liquid that signified that it would make me throw up and gosh; who was I kidding? </p><p>This was a mistake and I knew it. </p><p>“Stupid Niall.” I mutter beneath my breath and before I can leave the store, I glance up at the pretty pink bottle on the shelf. It was the most welcoming drink I had seen. Some sort of wine that was pink and just… it looked nice. I couldn’t break my gaze from it – taking everything in that I barely heard the door opening with another customer walking in. </p><p>Strawberry wine… it was rather cheap compared to the other bottles and seemed to have a lower alcohol percentage which was more appealing. Something about lingering in this bottle shop made me feel like I was breaking the law, knowing full well I was of legal age to be in here. </p><p>What am I doing? This isn’t me. </p><p>I sigh at the bottle of wine and shake my lowered head as I stalk up to the counter. </p><p>Reaching down, I grab a small chocolate bar – feeling bad for the man working that I made no purchase in my visit. I’m just too much of a sorry sack. </p><p>“That’ll be two pounds.” He says all bored and I almost blush knowing that I had to use my card for such a small transaction. I mean, it was a rather conscious decision to leave any cash at home before I came downtown. </p><p>“You don’t have two pounds?” He almost rolls his eyes as he grabs the card reader. I simply looked down, swiped my card and waited for it to read ‘approved’ before I hastily made my way out of the store. I couldn’t grab my phone out faster as soon as I met the cool air. </p><p>It was getting chilly outside and I wanted nothing more than to call a taxi and go straight home to my comfortable dorm room. I’m sure Liam was home by now but I didn’t want to disturb him. </p><p>In going to call the taxi, I noticed a few messages from both him and my mother. I’m not sure when I’d be able to escape the cotton wool they have wrapped me in. </p><p>‘Where are you, Ni?’ </p><p>‘I’m glad we spoke on the phone before. I love you son.’ </p><p>‘Niall? Are you at the library?’ </p><p>‘Niall, I’m starting to worry.’ </p><p>Once again, I noticed myself feeling sorry for them. It was a rather dumb thing to do in not telling Liam I was leaving the house. He must be so worried. </p><p>“Hey!” I hear someone call and I keep my head down, knowing someone would never talk to me. They must be talking to someone walking this way. </p><p>“You.” The voice was coming closer. “Blondie.” </p><p>I gulped and spun around slowly with my eyes cautiously looking ahead. I was wrong. I saw two eyes… eyes illuminated now by the streetlight watching me expectantly. His hair as dark as the night was swept away from his face leaving only a striking bone structure to be shown. He had many tattoos from what little skin he was showing with a plain white t-shirt on. His jeans matched his hair and I noticed a chain connected from the front of them to the side. </p><p>I had never seen someone like this before. It wasn’t the regular person residing downtown who had those shifty eyes or weird and crooked smile. He looked straight out of a magazine – everything about him exuded coolness and effort. I gulped. </p><p>I didn’t even want to reply. I simply looked around once more to make sure I was the one who he was talking to and oh gosh… nobody was around me. He is talking to me. </p><p>“You talk?” His voice was lower than before and I felt paralyzed to the point where I couldn’t string a sentence together. </p><p>“Yes.” I squeak and bite my lip, not knowing what he wanted. I was melting at the sight of him but kept such a big guard up. Feeling frightened felt inappropriate. </p><p>“You forgot this.” I watch as he unsheathes the bottle of strawberry wine I was ogling at before from behind his back and his lips, so pink and full, turn into a smirk. I gulped thinking I was going to take a step back. </p><p>“I-I didn’t buy that.” I am so pathetic. Learn to speak. </p><p>“No you didn’t. I bought it.” He says, and again, that smirk is the most dominant thing I had ever seen. “But you wanted it. Why didn’t you get it? You underage?” </p><p>“No.” It was the quickest I had ever answered anybody. “I’m 18 and I just… I changed my mind about it so I put it back.” </p><p>“Cheap wine… isn’t what you want?” It was like he was teasing me and I gulped once more. I couldn’t stop staring – talking to this man felt illegal. He had such a power over me and my movements and I wanted to be released. </p><p>I bit my lip instead of giving him an answer. He simply chuckled and shook his head. </p><p>“You scared or somethin’, Blondie?” </p><p>My chest rises and falls harshly. </p><p>“No.” My voice, a whisper. He seemed to enjoy it and I could tell he knew the effect he had over me already. </p><p>“Then tell me your name.” </p><p>“Niall. N-Niall Horan.” I think both of us were surprised that I went to tell him my last name. Gosh… Who uses their last name when introducing themselves? I guess I do when I’m faced with an impossibly attractive stranger in the middle of downtown Bradford who looked to have eyes so enriched with a knowledge I had never known. </p><p>“Pretty name, Blondie.” Again, with the nickname that made my knees want to buckle. “Niall. Niall Horan.” </p><p>“Do you have a name?” I curse myself for the way I worded the question and he smirked once more, taking a step closer toward me. A part of my brain wanted to step back, away from this stranger but the other part of my brain that drew me into the liquor store initially wanted me to step forward and seal this gap between us. What is happening to me? </p><p>“Yes I do.” He replies. “Zayn. Zayn Malik.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aimlessly, all I found interest in was every bit of art on these stranger’s incredibly toned arms. I couldn’t quite comprehend the courage it took to tattoo so many seemingly meaningless things on oneself. Does he forgo the human experience of regret and cowardice that I felt on so many occasions? I wanted to ask so many questions about each and every one of them and discover others that were hidden by mere cotton. </p><p>Gosh… What am I saying?</p><p>I couldn’t quite gage the man in front of me. Yeah, he was watching me as though I were a piece of meat to be devoured, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he looking at me in the same light as I looked at him? Or was I a bit of trouble to stir in the streets? </p><p>He licked his lips, eyes travelling around my face, and he once again, brought my attention down to the bottle of wine. </p><p>“So Blondie,” he says with voice like silk, “what’s someone as pretty as you doing in this part of town?” </p><p>I felt so overwhelmed by everything he was saying and the way he was saying it. He said I’m pretty… I can’t believe he thinks I’m pretty. </p><p>Again, I could barely reply, and he smirks again – eyes nice and wide to encompass all of the nonsensical energy I was projecting. I knew he thought I was some mute who could barely articulate a sentence and as much as I wanted to break down that persona and act like a normal human being, he took the reins once more. </p><p>“I get it.” He shakes his head. “You’re not much of a talker.” </p><p>“I am a talker.” I blurt out and I watch his eyes zone on in me intently. </p><p>“Wanna’ answer my question then?” </p><p>I sigh and look down, trying to relax my body. </p><p>“I-I went to the movies.” It came out very matter-of-factly. </p><p>“Alone?” </p><p>“Alone.” I confirm and watch his deep eyes darken at thought and another smirk appear on his face. </p><p>“There’s no… boyfriend about to walk around the corner to get mad at me for talking to ya’?” I wanted to melt right there. His forwardness was so foreign to me. It was utterly mesmerizing. </p><p>“No. I can assure you of that.” I break out a small flattered smile at his playfulness.</p><p>“Good. We wouldn’t want any trouble.” I couldn’t help but bite my lip as he said this. We had only just met and yet he transfixed himself into the most interesting person I had ever laid eyes on. “So you’ll join me for a drink of this… strawberry wine?” </p><p>“Yes.” I say quickly, leaving behind any nervousness. Believe me, it still remained lodged tightly within my soul but I needed to grow up and grab ahold of this… whatever it was. </p><p>As I go to reach for it, he pulls it away and behind his back. </p><p>“Perhaps we should go somewhere else to drink it?” His eyebrow raises expectantly, and I gulp. I had watched the news and knew the dangers of the rising crime rate here in Bradford. An invitation to drink with a complete stranger in the hardest part of town was essentially, a dumb move. </p><p>Think of it, as homework. A teacher instructed me to go out and find a life. Perhaps this Zayn, Zayn Malik could help me out with that. </p><p>“Yes.” It was more like a whisper. “Yes. Let’s go somewhere else.” </p><p>“Okay.” He purrs and invites me to walk along with him. Expecting him to take me toward one of the cars parked on the side of the road, I stop moving as he darts down the nearest alleyway. </p><p>It was only illuminated by a flickering streetlight and I could make out what I assumed to be a motorcycle. He seemed so casual about it and when he noticed I had stopped following, he glances behind at me. </p><p>“Never been on a bike before, Blondie?” </p><p>I go to open my mouth to answer but he chuckles, silencing me. </p><p>“No need to answer that question.” He ducks to the ground and picks up a black helmet. “Come here.” </p><p>Obeying him seemed natural to me. I scurried over and apprehensively accepted the helmet out of his hands. He was standing so close to me and smirked once more at the tightness between us. I place the helmet on my head, trying not to flinch at the cool plastic, and smile up at him as he clips it on for me. I probably looked like a right fool staring back up at him with a big helmet on, but he only watched me with the same affection as before. </p><p>I wanted to speak. I wanted him to know I spoke but before I could say anything, he shoves the bottle of wine beneath the seat compartment and hopped on the bike, gripping onto the handles. </p><p>“Hop on and hold on tight.” There it is again – that smirk. It watched me so intently and once again, I obeyed. </p><p>I straddled my legs over the bike and snaked my hands apprehensively around his waist. Considering he was wearing only a t-shirt; I could feel each sculpted muscle belonging to his tense stomach. It was obviously extremely toned but at the same time garnered a softness. I took advantage of the position and tightened my hold on him as I first heard the motorcycle rev up. </p><p>It was exhilarating the symphony of the bike starting up and driving swiftly out of the alleyway. Reality seemed to shift and all I could focus on between squeezing my eyes shut, was Zayn’s shoulder in front of me and just how quickly we were passing everything. </p><p>Darkness had taken over the sky and all of the streetlights highlighted the underbelly of Bradford. I could very well see groups of men stalking the streets and it became very clear I was far away from my dorm. </p><p>It seemed Zayn only went faster and faster. Whether it being fear or attraction, I held him tighter and had accidentally slipped my hand beneath his shirt and onto his bare stomach. Oh gosh… I was so happy I had a helmet on because I’m sure my cheeks were bright red. </p><p>I felt the vibrations of a laugh from the man in front of me and I grunted internally at how smug he came off. He knew the way he was making me feel and seemed to get a high from it. I couldn’t cave so easily.</p><p>When we arrived at what I assumed to be our destination, I was rather taken aback at the location. I had never been here before, obviously. It was some sort of back street lit by a single light post. There were no new housing developments down here, so it was just Zayn, his motorbike and me beneath the yellow light. He hops off immediately, leaving me to scurry off the bike and removing the helmet hastily. </p><p>“What?” I didn’t even realise I was staring until I saw him grin back at me oozing with a certain smugness that I hadn’t become accustomed to until tonight. </p><p>“N-nothing.” Again with the stuttering. “I just… I’ve never been here before.” </p><p>He pauses and raises an eyebrow. </p><p>“Where have you been? Because you’re clearly not from Bradford.” I watch as he fiddles about with his pockets. </p><p>“Oh – oh no I am from Bradford.” I stand up and nod, observing him fish a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. I had only assumed he was a smoker – from our closeness on the bike all I could gage was the combination of cigarettes and a musky cologne; a welcomed combination. “I’ve lived here my whole life.” </p><p>Those dark and narrowed eyes follow me all the way up from jeans to hair before he chuckles, placing a cigarette between his teeth. </p><p>“You’re not from Bradford – I’d know you if you were from Bradford.” He tests me again and before he goes to light up he quickly raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you want a smoke?” </p><p>Once again, before I can answer he chuckles to silence me. </p><p>“Of course you don’t.” All I can do is glare back at him. My eyes don’t leave his as he ignites his cigarette and sucks in, only to release a breath of smoke. He was just… I couldn’t describe how he made me feel just by standing there and smoking. </p><p>“Maybe you’re not from Bradford.” I was speaking out of my behind at this point. “Because I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen you before.” </p><p>His smirk did not falter as smoke fell from the side of his mouth. </p><p>“You don’t believe I’m from Bradford?” He took a step closer toward me but I refused to remove my gaze from his. Of course, I knew he was from Bradford. The way he knew the streets like they were second nature were an obvious giveaway. I just couldn’t allow myself to let my guard down. </p><p>“Well, you don’t believe I’m from Bradford.” </p><p>“As I said before, I would know if you were from around here. I would’ve done something about it.” He brings back the cigarette to his lips and at this point all I could smell was the smoke and it felt euphoric. It was as enticing as the man in front of me. </p><p>“You don’t need to believe me.” I shrug, inhaling the smoke with ease. </p><p>Once again, he pauses with eyes lit up. </p><p>“What part of Bradford then, Blondie?” Right now, I only wanted to be called that nickname I had never been called before. It was the way it fell out of his mouth that made me feel something indescribable. </p><p>“Uptown.” I nod. “I’m currently in the Bradford Academy.” </p><p>It was slightly embarrassing letting this beautiful stranger know where I went to school. It obviously wasn’t his scene and we both knew it. </p><p>“Uptown at the Bradford Academy.” He chuckles, tucking his bottom lip under. “How did I not guess that?” </p><p>I stay quiet. </p><p>“Now I really need to ask – what were you doin’ downtown all by yourself trying to buy some strawberry wine?” He raises an eyebrow, once again, cigarette meeting his lip. </p><p>“N-Nothing.” I shake my head. “I just wanted to see something, that’s all.” </p><p>“Did you find what you wanted to see?” </p><p>Well yes, I say mentally. </p><p>“I’m not sure yet.” I glance up at him, watching as he taps the ash off his cigarette. </p><p>He stays silent, lips still upturned to the point where I felt so powerless and submissive. Clearly, I had no power here. </p><p>“Are you scared?” It was almost a whisper and I looked to my feet. </p><p>“No.” It was the truth – a truth that I suspected he liked. Something about his eyes and the way he held me. I trusted him. Perhaps stupidly so, but I trusted him. </p><p>“You sure?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>Once more, he took another step closer and I felt my legs hit his bike. It remained standing and I gulped, practically leaning against it. His hand snaked around my waist and held me there comfortably. </p><p>“I just wanna’ know what you want with me.” My eyes narrow at his and he seemed taken back. “I-I mean… you just met me.” </p><p>He nods about, hand tightening around my waist before he flicks his cigarette to the ground and presses his leather-clad boot to extinguish it. </p><p>“You won’t get too attached, will you Blondie?” He whispers so intimately, and I gulped. I didn’t know how to articulate a reply. “I can tell you’ve never done this before.” </p><p>“You don’t know anything about me yet.” It was quick and he raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“I know enough, Blondie.” He licks his lips. “I don’t need you getting attached.” </p><p>I basically scoff and glare up at him. </p><p>“Who said I’d get attached?” It was swift and somehow executed in a way that removed his hand from my waist. “I barely know you and you don’t know anything about me.” </p><p>“From looking at you, I know exactly the type. You’re some rich kid who goes to a fancy school and has never gone near the edge before.” He judges, raking his eyes up and down once more. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, hm?” </p><p>“I-I-” The answer wouldn’t come out. </p><p>“Exactly.” He seemed proud of himself for reading the most obvious things about me and it was very frustrating.</p><p>“Well, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” </p><p>Expecting the same reply, he looks down and smirks to himself. </p><p>“I wouldn’t want to give you nightmares, Blondie.” My breath hitches and I fully enveloped exactly the guy I was standing in front of. Shockingly, this didn’t deter me. I wanted to step closer. </p><p>“Well… it’s best not to judge a book by its cover.” I shake my head. “You can’t judge me on where I go to school.” </p><p>“That’s the best part about you.” He stops me there. “I’ve never had a treat like this before.” </p><p>I wanted to hit back against that comment but I knew it would lead me nowhere. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t that guy. </p><p>“Well… You took me out here for a reason. I’d like my wine, please.” I demand and he chuckles again. </p><p>“So Blondie wants his strawberry wine.” I maintain my closeness to his bike and he doesn’t attempt to walk around me to reach underneath the seat to grab the bottle, he only leans forward and drops his hand down to grab it. I felt his breath on my neck and my insides did a twist. I wanted him to lean forward so bad I had to hold my hands behind my back. </p><p>Soon enough, he gained composure and popped the bottle open. I didn’t even realise that it was fizzy until I saw a few bubbles spill out of the opening – going to show just how much I knew about alcohol. </p><p>“Here you go.” He huffs, handing the open bottle over to me and I bit my lip. It was so pretty and the bubbles made it look like there were sparkles within. Hastily, I took the bottle to my lips, knowing his eyes were watching me so intently and ingested a slither of my first alcoholic beverage. </p><p>It was sweet… but it was bitter. I liked it and couldn’t help but grin up at Zayn who was staring at me. </p><p>“It’s… delicious.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I-I have to admit to you that this is the first time I’ve ever had wine… or any other drink.” </p><p>“You’re not very subtle, Blondie.” He shakes his head. “Are you sure you’re 18?” </p><p>“Do you need to see ID?” I snort, taking another small sip and his lips turn into a smirk. </p><p>“You wanted your first drink to be… this?” I could tell he had no interest in even trying the drink. He definitely didn’t strike me as the type to drink this. </p><p>“It’s pretty and pink.” That is my only defense. “It seems like a good start.” </p><p>“Very appropriate for you.” He whispers, placing his hand up against his bike so I am sandwiched between. I had to swallow down whatever was in my mouth and watched his eyes closely. They had shifted. Previously, I had only seen darkness and smug glints – now they were watching me with an intensity I had never felt before. My eyes couldn’t be ripped from his at this point in time. </p><p>“Has anyone told you how pretty you are Blondie?” He knew the answer and asked anyway. Oh gosh… I’m in trouble. </p><p>“Of course not.” I practically scoffed. “And I think you knew that.” </p><p>“I don’t believe it.” He takes his spare hand and grasps the side of my waist like he had previously, and I wanted to melt into his touch. “You’re somethin’ else.” </p><p>I didn’t know where to look. There was no escaping him. He had me. I didn’t want to move; I didn’t want to talk, and I didn’t want to leave this moment. </p><p>“Let me taste it, hm?” He breaks the silence ushering down to the pink bottle in my hand and tilt my head to the side, holding the bottle up to him. He simply smirks in response and leaves me knowing where he was going with the rest of the conversation. </p><p>“Is it as sweet as you say?” Closer. </p><p>“Y-Yes.” My voice was shaky. “Maybe even sweeter.” </p><p>He maintained his curved lips and I wanted to lean in. I wanted to lean in so bad, but I was frightened. I had never kissed anyone, if it wasn’t so painfully obvious. I knew that by forfeiting whatever dominance my delusional mind thought I possessed, to hand it over to Zayn was the best decision. He was in control and I had absolutely no issues with it. </p><p>For once in my life, I didn’t want to analyse what was going on. I wanted to fall and feel these built up urges I had been feeling all night and frankly, all of my life. It was strange for my family when I told them I didn’t have anyone in mind when I came out as gay, but I found the person I had in mind. </p><p>He licks his lips. </p><p>“And you’re okay if I test that?” Eyes all knowing. </p><p>“Yes.” It was instantaneous. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” </p><p>He smelt so good and a part of my twitched at the feeling of being able to taste the cigarette he had previously smoked. Gosh… How much have I had to drink? </p><p>“Okay Blondie.” His voice, quiet and deep. He was closing the gap between us. I felt his breath hit mine. Despite my urge to shut my eyes and embrace what was happening, I wanted to watch. I wanted to see him come closer and feel his nose on mine, feel his arms tighten around my waist and oh God… he was too slow. </p><p>I leant in and froze as my lips pressed against his. I kept utterly still at my forwardness and realisation that I had never kissed anyone before – I had no idea what to do! </p><p>His only response is to ricochet his hand from the bike and engulf me in his own warm arms despite the cool air. It was only us in the moment and he only held me tighter. He began to move his lips… something that felt so foreign. I followed in suit and wanted to melt at the taste of his previous cigarette. It was heavenly. </p><p>I couldn’t tell if I was doing it right but that was far from a worry. This was the craziest thing I had ever done and I wanted to spend the rest of my life chasing this feeling. </p><p>After an exchange that I am sure out-lasted at least 20 seconds by my own calculations, he pulled away and leant his head against mine. </p><p>Now, we were level. He knew I wanted him and I knew he wanted me. Even if we just met; even if I didn’t know a single thing about him. I just wanted to be held. </p><p>How did I spend 18 years of my life without kissing a single person? </p><p>Perhaps I was waiting for this moment. </p><p>“Sweet.” He whispers, eyes meeting mine. “You’re right about it tasting sweet.” </p><p>I swallow and pull away, his arms not leaving my sides. </p><p>“Zayn I-” I pause and furrow my brows. “I’ve never done that before.” </p><p>He smiles – not smirks – in response. </p><p>“I know.” And I felt my stomach drop. “I can tell.” </p><p>“That bad?” I mutter earning a light laugh. </p><p>“No… The opposite.” He hits back. “You’re just… somethin’ else.” </p><p>This time, I exit his embrace completely – suddenly hitting the cool Saturday air. I place the bottle of wine next to the wheel of his bike and watch as his eyes follow me. </p><p>I don’t think it had sunk in for me yet. I had my first kiss and I don’t know if it meant anything to him. </p><p>Once more, he reaches into his pocket and grabs his packet of cigarettes – hastily bringing one to his lips. I knew how they tasted… what an odd bit of information. This is definitely not how I saw this night going. </p><p>As he lights it up, I felt a shiver run down my spine. I wasn’t sure whether it was the cold or the sight of him with tousled hair and a cigarette between his teeth. </p><p>“You cold, Blondie?” He huffs, smoke falling from his mouth. “Take my jacket – it’s just under the seat.” </p><p>“Okay.” I whisper, going behind him to fish for the jacket. I could tell his eyes hadn’t left me and they were burning into my back. </p><p>As I flick open the seat, I couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of a leather jacket so neatly folded there. Imagining him wearing it was surely a treat. </p><p>A phone goes off and the two of us surely knew it wouldn’t be mine. Clearly, I’m not as popular. </p><p>“Sorry Blondie – I’ve gotta’ take this.” He huffs and I snap my gaze back in his direction to watch him pull a phone from his pocket. He leans forward and pecks my cheek, igniting my insides and walks a few paces, bringing the device to his ear. </p><p>“Tomlinson.” It came out with that same sense of dominance I had felt from Zayn this entire night and I smiled to myself, looking back down at the jacket. </p><p>I hastily pull it out while maintaining eye-contact with Zayn whose eyes were so clearly pressed to the floor. </p><p>“-Well sort it out. I’m sick of doing it for him all the time.” </p><p>Unfolding the jacket, I furrow my brows at the marking on the front of it. </p><p>By the left corner, where a blazer pocket would normally exist, I found myself reading words sewn into the leather. </p><p>‘Malik <br/>President.’ </p><p>It took those two words and the nature of the progressing phone call for me to put two and two together. I’m not sure what I thought Zayn did… but this confirmed a thought I had been avoiding all night. </p><p>“Because if you don’t…” He lowers his voice so quietly that I missed what he was saying. </p><p>I couldn’t stop staring at the jacket, surprisingly without a feeling of fright. There was no indication of gang name leaving me to conclude it was sprawled out on the back of the jacket. I wanted to turn it around so badly but I didn’t want this current reality to be interrupted… nor did I want him to think I was investigating anything. </p><p>Something sat wrong in my stomach about this and I was once again reminded that I was so, so far away from home. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way back now.” He quickly snaps and I almost jump as he stalks his way back to me. </p><p>“I’m sorry – I’m gonna’ have to drop you back home. Something to do with work came up.” I don’t even respond and without skipping a beat, he throws his cigarette to the floor and grabs the jacket from my hands before I have a chance to read the back. He goes behind me and helps my arms into it. </p><p>“You warm now?” He says close to my ear and I simply nod, not wanting to draw attention to the millions of thoughts surging through my head. </p><p>The jacket was slightly too big for me, but it was undoubtedly comfortable. I don’t think I had ever worn leather. </p><p>He jumps on the bike and slides forward expecting me to hop on behind him. </p><p>“Some people are so fucking stupid…” He was talking to himself. “I’m sorry. Just – where do you need me to take you?” </p><p>I clear my throat, keeping my eyes down as I climb on behind him. </p><p>“Do you know where the Bradford Academy is? I live in the dorms there.” I wrap my arms around his stomach and press myself up against him. It almost felt as though my back was burning with information my eyes couldn’t reach. </p><p>“Yeah, I’ll take you there. Put your helmet on.” </p><p>I obey and shortly enough he sped off leaving a trial of dust behind. I glanced back seeing a lonely streetlight and a bottle of strawberry wine left by the post that I would never forget. </p><p>I had many thoughts meandering around my mind. I’m not that naïve that I suspected Zayn to work as an accountant or something… but it was odd that I didn’t add it up sooner. He obviously was in a gang; I mean, he was the so-called ‘President’ of it. I just didn’t know which one and I was rather anxious to find out. </p><p>The ride back home was conflicting. A part of me felt disappointed that the night and what we shared between us was going to end. The more logical part of me wanted to get to the bottom of this. </p><p>When we arrived, I almost flinched at just how loud the bike was in conjunction with the silent dormitories above us. I didn’t want anyone to come out and see me – the confusion they would feel would be through the roof. </p><p>Hastily I hopped off, removing the helmet from my head and placing it on Zayn’s lap. He was watching me closely and I felt that intimacy and affection he couldn’t help but exude. </p><p>“I-I had a good time.” I stifle a grin. “Thanks for – you know, the wine and the ride. It was great.” </p><p>He smirks in reply. </p><p>“I enjoyed it too, Blondie. I really enjoyed it.” </p><p>I huff to myself and chew on my lip. </p><p>“I-Um I know you have to run, but I’d love to give you my number?” I offer out, eyes so incredibly hopeful. I could tell that Zayn liked me… not sure if he liked me as much as I liked him. Oh gosh… I must sound crazy already. </p><p>“What did I say before to you, Blondie?” He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t get attached to me.” </p><p>I clear my throat. </p><p>“I know what I said. I just think maybe we could do this again? I don’t have many friends, Zayn.” It came out pathetically. </p><p>“Blondie,” he whispers, leaning forward. “If I am seeing you again, you’re not gonna’ be my friend.” </p><p>I gulp seeing his eyes so clad with passion and darkness – it was a mixture I knew I would never get tired of. </p><p>“Now go up to your dorm and lock your door. The streets have been dangerous lately.” He says looking about and I sigh, going to remove the jacket. “You gotta’ keep yourself safe for me Blondie. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you.” </p><p>“I know nothing will happen to me.” I say plainly, ensuring that our eyes meet. “I don’t see any danger here.” </p><p>He seemed to have caught on and he chuckles down at his jacket, giving it a squeeze. </p><p>“Not yet.” He whispers. “That’s why you can’t get attached.” </p><p>It was rather infuriating that he could leave me on this note after giving me a night I would never forget. Just today, I was pleading to my teacher to essentially do more homework and now I was left feeling utterly weak by a leather-clad bikie who was clearly apart of some gang. </p><p>“Fine.” It came out quickly. “I better let you go.” </p><p>“Come here first, Blondie.” He says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. </p><p>He leans in and captures my lips once more. It was short and sweet and I had to stop myself from thinking it meant anything. Perhaps he always did this. Pick on the most unsuspecting person, get them to feel things about him and then leave into the night with no strings attached. I’m such a fool. </p><p>“I had a great time.” He whispers again. </p><p>I pull away completely and take two steps back. I had to think logically now. </p><p>“Thanks again.” I shake my head. “It was nice meeting you.” </p><p>He sensed the distance and sighs, weaving his left and then his right arm into his jacket. It came into fruition now. He had ‘President’ attached over his heart and the picture came together. This was a man I had to steer clear from and as much as the bigger part of me wanted to hop back on the bike and learn everything there was to learn about him, I turned on my heel and walked away. </p><p>It is silent between us for a moment and I flinch hearing the bike rev loudly and tires screech. </p><p>I spin around on my heel, catching sight of his back. ‘The Damnation’ I read and scoffed. I didn’t know what I was expecting, I don’t think it was that.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was awoken the next morning by an odd amount of light being let into the room. Somehow, I was able to sneak in last night without the whole interrogation process I knew would be mandatory if Liam had spotted me. It was enough that I had ignored all of the texts he had sent me while I was downtown, but I knew that I crossed the line slipping home when he was clearly in bed.</p>
<p>Perhaps the interrogation would come in the form of a sit-down – or maybe he’d waterboard answers out of me. I didn’t know. </p>
<p>While I had known him my entire life as simply the boy who lived next door; my best friend, day-by-day he was turning into my parents and the type of people they were. Their hearts, like Liam, were always full of love and I knew they had my best interest as their main intention. But they had to protect the picture of myself I had been groomed to present my entire life. </p>
<p>The money and the privilege I knew we both had… it was never something of interest. Not like it is to Liam. His parents were in a very similar situation to mine and he seems just fine with it. </p>
<p>All I want is to learn and succeed. I’m not sure if they are his only values as they are mine. </p>
<p>I had almost forgotten what happened to me the night prior. My mind was for one compartmentalizing it into a place I didn’t want to remember. His taste, smell, touch – all engraved into my brain. I’d never forget that. Never. </p>
<p>But I forced myself to block any reminder of the gang… the bike… the way he left and the way I would never be able to contact him again. My first encounter with someone who made me feel a way I never thought I’d feel, and it was over and done. Just like that. </p>
<p>“Wow. Good morning.” I hear an all-too familiar voice scoff out, hearing the toaster pop. </p>
<p>I snap my eyes up to my disgruntled roommate whose hands were hip-side and gaze narrowed at my bed. I should’ve just texted him back. Yesterday must’ve been the most idiotic in my existence. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” I mutter, sitting up with my back leant against the headboard. “Just let me shower. I’ll explain it all after.” </p>
<p>I slipped out of the sheets hastily and made my way to the shower where I knew I had to cleanse and clear everything from last night. With a shut door, I stripped my clothes to the ground and entered – hoping the noise of the water hitting my skin would zone out my incredibly loud thoughts of the night before. </p>
<p>I would never forget his eyes. How could I? You would think a guy like that with dark hair and features would sport dark eyes… but his were almost golden and looked at me in a way that felt cosmic. </p>
<p>He held me like I had never been held before and reassured me that his arms were safe. Lies. </p>
<p>But here I am, a classic fool. I knew that I had the ability to read a literature prompt and spew out a high-scoring essay – but I couldn’t even read the signs he was sending toward me. Of course, the confidence and dominance… the smirk and the leather jacket… this was a man who had done this before and clearly got good at it. </p>
<p>He hardly seemed phased at our separation and I knew I would have to work really hard in many ways to conjure up the courage to move on. If I didn’t have Liam who would squeeze what happened out of me, I guess I’d never talk about it ever again. I don’t need to make myself a fool twice. It may be bad luck for my exams. </p>
<p>After a hasty shower, I wrapped my towel around me and walked out of the bathroom and toward my wardrobe. Liam still had his back facing me as he ate his breakfast and I could just gage the tension he had omitted in the room. </p>
<p>I don’t think he cared that I went out without telling him. He had to be very confused. Being somebody who would never think to leave the dorm alone, my actions were totally out of character. </p>
<p>I shoved on a pair of black pants and white t-shirt. Oh gosh… I was even beginning to dress like him. I couldn’t throw the white shirt off fast enough. My subconscious was clearly out to get me. A blue hoodie seemed way more appropriate… and way less of a reminder that I am a lonely sorry sack. </p>
<p>“Were you with your mother?” Liam fires initially and I look down, thinking how pathetic my life up until this point was, that my best friend would only assume I would be with my mum. </p>
<p>“No – no I was not.” </p>
<p>“Then where did you go? I actually got worried about you.” He says with a small laugh. “I mean, did you catch a bus or something?” </p>
<p>“No.” The same reply. “I hate the bus, you know that.” </p>
<p>“Ugh, so do I.” He shakes his head, crunching down on his toast. “Then where were you? I mean, you could’ve texted me back.” </p>
<p>“I’m sorry Liam. I am. I went to the movies, actually.” Rather content with this answer, I nodded. It wasn’t a lie. I did go to the movies yesterday. </p>
<p>“Oh, did you catch that new action movie?” He raises an eyebrow. “I wanted to see that.” </p>
<p>“Yes, I did actually.” I hit back with a smile. “It was pretty good. I thought that because you were busy and I had nothing else to do, I’d just go see it.” </p>
<p>He watches me expectantly and I sighed to my lap. Anyone who had ever come into contact with me knew my skills when it came to lying or leaving something out – hence why I never do it. </p>
<p>“Is that all…?” He says slowly, clearly knowing the answer. </p>
<p>I didn’t know how to approach this. Of course, Liam would be proud of me for meeting somebody, but this wasn’t just anybody. I was too humiliated to even confide in him that in my first ever encounter I found myself brutally rejected. </p>
<p>“It’s all that matters.” I offer out, shrugging my shoulders. </p>
<p>“Niall…” </p>
<p>“Okay.” I huff, giving up entirely. Perhaps it would be therapeutic to use my best friend as some sort of outlet. We weren’t just study-buddies or roommates. He deserved to know. </p>
<p>“I met someone last night but… It doesn’t matter.” </p>
<p>“Niall!” This time, enthusiasm. “You met someone? That’s fantastic.” </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t be celebrating just yet.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Um… it won’t go anywhere, and he made that clear.” </p>
<p>“Tell me about it. Is he cute?” I stifled a small smile at Liam making an effort and embracing my recent exposure of sexuality. He was a good friend. </p>
<p>“Yes Liam,” I chuckle. “He is… somethin’ else.” </p>
<p>The words hurt because that’s exactly how Zayn described me. At least when I say it, I’m not trying to lure anyone in. </p>
<p>“Then what’s the matter?” His eyes were so full of hope. “You’re a catch. He’d be stupid not to go somewhere with it.” </p>
<p>“Not that I have any experience, but I think the interest has to be mutual.” I say. “He didn’t want it to go any further.” </p>
<p>He furrows his brows and looks to his lap. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry to hear that. He sounds dumb.” It was almost a scoff and I chuckled at the response. </p>
<p>“Maybe so.” My voice was small. I intentionally left out every other part of our encounter where we kissed and that I met him downtown. Also, I thought it may be important to forfeit the fact he was the president of the most talked about gang in Bradford at the moment. I don’t think Liam would appreciate that detail. “I better be going anyway.” </p>
<p>“Going? Where are you off to?” </p>
<p>“The library.” I huff, feeling pathetic for what I was about to do. “I need to print out some notes and return some books.” </p>
<p>“Want me to join you-”</p>
<p>“No.” I stop him instantly. “I mean… I really need to buckle down and study after stopping yesterday.” </p>
<p>“You need a hobby.” He teases. “And a boyfriend; a proper one – the type that appreciates you.” </p>
<p>“Thanks Liam.” I shake my head at him, putting some white socks and black Converse on. Snatching up the books that were almost overdue off my desk and grabbing my dorm keys and wallet. “I’ll see you later. I promise I’ll message this time.” </p>
<p>“Well, have fun.” He sighs, leaning back into his seat. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty about not studying.” </p>
<p>“Think of it as motivation?” I offer, going toward the door. “See you, Liam.” </p>
<p>When I left the dorm room and the door hit my back, I sighed. I needed to forget what I am forever going to refer to as a distraction and head to the library and do what I did best; contribute to the erasure of my personal life. </p>
<p>Thankfully it was a Sunday. Nobody went to the library on a Sunday except for losers like me so I took my seat by one of the computers happily. I opened my books and set off on my plight to make up for lost time. </p>
<p>He tasted so good… </p>
<p>“Stop it.” I mutter to myself, shaking myself out of an oncoming attack of how he made me feel. </p>
<p>And the way he held me by my waist – I’d do anything to feel it again-</p>
<p>I widened my eyes at the page beneath me that was spewing information about the French Revolution I already had memorized, as though it would help me think of something else. </p>
<p>Guillotines and social revolt. Think of that, Niall. </p>
<p>Smiling contently back down at the page, a part of me prayed internally that I was committing myself to thoughts other than his gorgeous eyes, tousled hair and impossibly soft lips-</p>
<p>“That’s it.” I grunt to myself, sealing the book shut and firing open the computer in front of me. Thankfully, it doubled as an archive; a collection of old and new news stories. </p>
<p>Pathetically, I knew that this was the reason I was so eager to go to the library. I could recite each philosophical standpoint of the French Revolution as though it were nothing. I didn’t need to study. I needed answers of my own to help ease a part of me that just wouldn’t relent. </p>
<p>When I had the search page in front of me, I again typed in ‘The Damnation’ with eager hopes to see Zayn’s name… his face – anything. </p>
<p>‘What the rising crime rate in Bradford means for already volatile stock prices…’ </p>
<p>‘How are firearms breaching England’s borders? Safety officer weighs in…’ </p>
<p>‘Gang suspect identified in recent hit and run attack let off…’ </p>
<p>“There you are,” I whisper, clicking the third article title I read. </p>
<p>I skimmed the words so very hastily, taking in all that I thought was important. </p>
<p>‘The Damnation… notorious gang… hit and run… suspect released due to lack of evidence…’ </p>
<p>Beneath the text, my eyes widened slightly at the mugshot below. I didn’t pay attention to the unfamiliar blue eyes or gelled back brown hair, all I could see on the plaque he held in his picture was his name; Louis Tomlinson. </p>
<p>I don’t think a single moment of last night with Zayn was forgotten. I knew he received a phone call from someone called ‘Tomlinson’ and the man in the mugshot in front of me was exactly him. </p>
<p>The article continued and I gathered the information in similar suit. </p>
<p>‘Suspect Louis Tomlinson… the fifth to be arrested from the gang in question… all let out due to lack of evidence… similar charges such as robbery and debauchery…’ </p>
<p>It was like I had hit the jackpot. Attached beneath the writing above, the five mugshots of each member of the gang and like a magnet, I was drawn to one in particular. </p>
<p>It was him. Zayn – Zayn Malik, with eyes as deep and dark as I remember. He didn’t have the same smug smile or wicked grin like Louis Tomlinson and other gang members had in their picture, he didn’t show a single emotion. </p>
<p>His cheekbones were carved intently. His knuckles that gripped the plaque that read his name were bloodied and red. This was a criminal; a hardened one. He exuded a differing presence that the other mugshots forwent. This was a man to be feared – clearly, the leader of the rest. </p>
<p>And he just so happens to be all that I’ve thought about for the past 12 hours. </p>
<p>The comfortability and trustworthiness he translated to me seemed almost exclusive. If I had never met him, I would be frightened but I wasn’t. </p>
<p>I had a picture of him now. I had evidence that what happened, happened. I didn’t know what this meant for me, but I was drawn. </p>
<p>My attraction for Zayn, the leader of a notorious gang and man that swept me off my feet in a night, stood higher than the fear I’m sure he wanted me to feel. I wasn’t going to run from this. I didn’t feel afraid. </p>
<p>The most frustrating part of this all was that I was only a small piece in the overall picture. He clearly didn’t seem like the type of guy to take anything further and maybe it was my fault for getting slightly attached. I knew he wasn’t thinking about me like I am thinking about him. </p>
<p>I was sitting on a secret almost too big for comfort. I wish he knew how he made me feel in such a short time, but I knew he was probably on his bike seeking another person out. Maybe I am able to accept this. I’ve been alone my whole life. </p>
<p>“Looks like it’s just you and me.” I shut the tab on the computer and glance back down at the textbook. Studying is something I am good at and all I have. I’ve never complained so why should I now? </p>
<p>I’ll forget about him. I have to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a week exactly since I last thought of Zayn. Maybe that’s a lie. Maybe I’ve thought about him every waking minute my mind wasn’t lingering on whatever I had to study for. </p>
<p>I had been pathetically surveying every news report that appeared on the screen with no sign of him or the Damnation. I knew he was out there somewhere… doing… something. Niall, you need to stop. Officially. </p>
<p>Liam had shot me more than one hundred confused glances every time he came home to find me watching the TV. I was more than sympathetic to the fact that I had hid this integral information from him but at this point beyond reason, I don’t think I cared. He would never understand. </p>
<p>So here I am, finally shutting one of my books and collecting myself in front of the mirror. Perhaps a blue woolen vest atop a white dress shirt would be suitable for one of my mother’s eccentric celebratory dinners. I didn’t quite pay attention to what we would be celebrating this time, but I assume it still has to do with me coming out. The woman was suffocating. </p>
<p>“You’re sure you don’t wanna’ come?” I huff to Liam, knowing he wanted to stay in and study today of all days. At least when he came to my family soirees, he was someone I could confide in. </p>
<p>“I’m literally buried in the books.” He snorts referring to the towering pile by his desk. “I didn’t want to listen to you when you said I needed to start studying earlier and here I am, the idiot with work up to my neck.” </p>
<p>“Bad things happen to those who don’t listen to me.” I tease, pressing a shoulder forward. He seemed to appreciate the humor by hurling a pen at my chest. “Don’t do too much – you won’t be able to retain the info.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah easy for you to say.” He huffs. “Have a good night.” </p>
<p>And so, I set out for my parent’s house. It wasn’t a rather long journey from the academy, in fact, the drive to the front gate of the community where they reside was only about 10 minutes. I spend the entire car ride listening to the news on the radio. Just in case. </p>
<p>After typing in the pin to the front gate, I sped up and around the winding roads with each house getting progressively bigger than the other until I arrived at the end of the street to my home.  </p>
<p>One car… two cars… three cars… four?</p>
<p>I squint my eyes at the fourth car parked by the fountain. I had never seen it before, perhaps alluding to my parents adding another to their growing collection. Although compared to my mother’s white SUV, my father’s sportscar and the sleek black sedan he took to work; this didn’t seem their style. It was a silver European two-seated convertible. Something about it seemed classic and romantic – like something out of a Bond film. </p>
<p>“And I have to share a car with my roommate.” I grovel, hopping out of the blue hatchback Liam’s parents bought him for the two of us to share while at the academy. His father and mine made some deal that the scores Liam and I got during our final year exams would reflect the car we were each gifted for graduation. </p>
<p>With my mind so clouded at this point in time with a certain dark-eyed and smug gangster; it looks like I’ll have to take the bus everywhere. </p>
<p>Two sharp knocks at the door and I was met with a knowing smile dressed in a white pantsuit and silver chains. </p>
<p>“Niall, honey, how are you?” I’m engulfed in a hug immediately. </p>
<p>“Hi Mum – I’m good, let me get inside.” I chuckle, pulling away. </p>
<p>As I trial my eyes up, I couldn’t help but furrow my brows. She has redecorated again. This must be the third time this year. </p>
<p>“The house… it’s…” I trail off, looking down at a pair of stone ducks sitting atop the accent table in the formal lounge room. “You’ve redecorated.” </p>
<p>“Oh yes,” she shakes her head. “Remember that woman who did the interior decorating for us?” </p>
<p>“Wanda – yeah.” I smile back, having very fond memories of her littered throughout the recent years of my life. She was always so kind. </p>
<p>“Well, I fired her.” </p>
<p>Of course, she did. </p>
<p>“I couldn’t have my son come home to such a boring home – you’re colorful now.” I almost cringe at the choice of words but put it behind me. I had to keep in mind that I came from a socially conservative household and they were doing everything they could to make me comfortable and feel welcome. It was bittersweet in a way. </p>
<p>“Yes… very colorful.” I walk toward the kitchen in the middle of the house with her going ahead in front of me. </p>
<p>I grab out a bottle of soda from the fridge – being sure to grab a glass to pour it into, knowing good and well my mother hated when I drank from the direct source. Something about keeping up appearances. </p>
<p>“Niall.” She hisses behind me as I take my first gulp of the chilled soft drink. “Why aren’t you wearing your grey vest? You look very handsome in that – you look like you just rolled out of bed.” </p>
<p>I sigh. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I was in a rush to get ready.” It was a lie. The vest was incredibly itchy and I think she knew that. </p>
<p>“I just want you to look nice is all.” She hums, scooping her glass of white from the bench. I raise an eyebrow at how coy she was behaving. Well… coyer than usual. </p>
<p>“Why? Who is here?” I say, thinking about the convertible parked in the driveway. </p>
<p>“Oh nobody.” She snaps quickly. </p>
<p>“Nobody?” </p>
<p>“Well…” </p>
<p>“Oh gosh… whose here?” </p>
<p>She lets out a small smile as though she had been busting to tell me something. </p>
<p>“Just one of your father’s colleagues.” She shrugs. “He’s a recent graduate and quite brilliant. Your father is very impressed with him.” </p>
<p>I stare back. </p>
<p>“I’m glad father thinks that… is he joining us for dinner?” With a simple nod in response I take another sip of my soda. </p>
<p>“I think you’ll like him.” Her eyes narrow and I recognized that look anywhere. She exuded this type of energy when she tried to set me up with the daughters of my father’s friends when I was much younger. I didn’t want to jump the gun… but I hoped that this wasn’t what was happening. </p>
<p>I couldn’t think of anything worse than being set up with some snob that worked for my father. They all came in the same boring form. </p>
<p>“Mm.” I mutter. “I’m happy to meet dad’s work friend.” </p>
<p>She smiles sweetly in response. </p>
<p>“Dinner will be ready any minute. The dining room is all set up.” She says and I nod, scooping up my glass to head toward the dining room toward the back of the house. It always remained my least favorite room in the house – taking into consideration the many, many drawling dinners I had to attend here as a child with different colleagues and partners of my father’s law firm, and any socialite my mother hung around. My cheeks were pinched a lot within this space.</p>
<p>“Hi Dad.” I smile, very happy to see the greying man at the end of the table – of course, a book in hand. </p>
<p>“Niall! Come here.” He grins, getting up to envelop me in a hug. While my mum and I spoke the most, I always felt such warmth and love toward him. He had gifted me an incredible life and seemed to always look out for me. “How are you?” </p>
<p>“I’m good – I’m good. I’ve been studying my bum off.” I say, going to take the seat to closest to the wall that led to the garden. </p>
<p>“Exams are coming up very soon – are you ready?” </p>
<p>“I think so.” I say truthfully. “There’s just… a few little areas I need to clean up. My teachers are all telling me that I’m sure to succeed.” </p>
<p>“Well, in success, there is no certainty.” Here we go on another one of his lectures to do with my success. At this point, and how many I’ve had to endure, I just embraced them. “You need to really apply yourself.” </p>
<p>“And that I will.” I nod. </p>
<p>“How is everything else? Is everyone at school being nice to you?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I’ve had no issues.” Another truthful answer. I don’t think anyone even knew I existed enough to care that I was gay. They all went on with their lives. “Everyone has been nice.” </p>
<p>“Well… You tell me if they’re not. I can make a call to Jeffrey if you experience the smallest issue.” I smile in response at his reference to the headmaster by first name. They were very close friends. </p>
<p>“I’m sure you will Dad.” I nod, grabbing my beige napkin and placing it on my lap. </p>
<p>I hear the door open once more and expecting to see my mother carting two plates full of dinner in her hands I am met with an unfamiliar pair of eyes dressed in an all grey suit. </p>
<p>This was the man belonging to the classic convertible out the front of the house and… appropriately so. He had a kind face and tightly tailored suit with carelessly neat light brown hair. </p>
<p>“They’re giving me hell with this email list.” He chuckles, a voice rather soft. “I’m leaving it up to Jarrod to deal with it further.” </p>
<p>“Oh, sit down, James. Stop working.” My Dad grins, ushering him over. So that is the name belonging to the man belonging to the car out the front. “Come and introduce yourself to my son, Niall.” </p>
<p>“H-Hi.” I smile awkwardly, not knowing whether to stand up or stay seated as he approached. I chose the latter. </p>
<p>“Niall.” He smiles back exuding such confidence and poise. “I’ve heard so much about you.” </p>
<p>He offers a hand for me to shake and I swallow the built-up saliva in my mouth and shake his in return. I guess working with my father meant shaking a lot of hands. </p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you James.” </p>
<p>He pauses for a moment, eyes not leaving mine. Oh gosh… the nerves began to kick in. </p>
<p>“Lovely to meet you too.” He says, taking his hand back. </p>
<p>“James has been working for me for a few months now since he graduated.” My dad nods proudly as though it were his accomplishment. The young lawyer takes his seat across from me and I gulp, knowing I couldn’t hide this entire dinner. “He graduated top of his class.” </p>
<p>“Oh – congratulations.” I stifle a smile. “Hard work pays off.” </p>
<p>“So I’ve heard.” He chuckles and I couldn’t help but admire the way he oozed charisma and class so effortlessly. “Many caffeine powered hours got me there – not just hard work.” </p>
<p>“Don’t be so modest.” My father bellows. “You’re the youngest fella’ we’ve had working for us – there’s a lot of hard work in that.” </p>
<p>“If by hard work you’re referring to how I’ve had to clean up a few cases for Jarrod and Benjamin – then you’re right.” James teases, obviously showing off the close relationship he had with my father. This earned a famously loud laugh in response. </p>
<p>“You could teach Niall a thing or two about getting to the top – he has his final exams coming up himself.” Dad invites me into a conversation I didn’t feel qualified to enter. </p>
<p>“Oh yeah? What course are you trying to get into?” He says, eyes boring into mine once more. He brought a lightness to the room rather naturally. </p>
<p>“Well, I’ve applied for pre-law. Of course.” I say, looking down.</p>
<p>“What else is there?” My father chuckles, I wish I could’ve ignored that.</p>
<p> “Whether I get in or not is a coin-toss really.” </p>
<p>“A coin-toss?” James questions. “I have heard so much about how you’ve aced every single class up until this point. You shouldn’t give yourself a hard time.” </p>
<p>“It only matters if I can apply myself to my exams.” My eyes meet my father’s rather expectant ones. “After they’re over I’ll let you know.” </p>
<p>“I can feel it now – you’ll do well.” He winks playfully and I couldn’t help but to goofily smile at my lap. He had already made me feel better about myself despite his overwhelming success in law and impressing my father, previously clouding my judgement of him. </p>
<p>“Could I borrow a few hands?” Mum calls from the doorway, holding two plates of dinner and balancing the others on my forearms. As I go to stand up, I watch as James beats me to it, scooping up two of them and bringing them over to the table. I could tell in my mother’s eyes that she clearly enjoyed his attention. It was eye-roll worthy. </p>
<p>“Here you go,” James whispers down to me, placing a plate between my cutlery. </p>
<p>“Thanks.” It was almost a squeak. </p>
<p>“This looks delicious, Maura – you’ve done it again.” He grins, returning to his seat across from me. Oh gosh… not only did he have my dad infatuated, but seemingly my mother too. </p>
<p>“I hope so. The meat has been cooking over four hours now – it should just fall off the bone.” She smiles, sitting across from my father. </p>
<p>“It looks wonderful, darling.” Dad compliments. </p>
<p>Not even before the first bite of food can reach my lips, my mum perks up. </p>
<p>“Niall,” she says, cleansing her palate with her white wine. “James is Laura’s son – you know, the woman who makes those amazing macarons.” </p>
<p>“Oh.” I pause, not remembering the woman but remembering the macarons. “They were delicious – you’re so lucky you get to eat those all the time.” </p>
<p>“Mum’s had to stop making them for me because I don’t stop once I’ve started.” He jokes, earning a suspiciously loud laugh from my parents. “I’ll have to get her to whip up some more to bring over one day.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ll have to organize it on a day where I’m home – I’d hate to miss out.” I chuckle pathetically, using this time to take a bite of my dinner. </p>
<p>“She brought them over a few months ago when James first got the job.” Dad explains. “I think I had about three before Maura confiscated them.” </p>
<p>“I can’t blame you – they are wonderful.” </p>
<p>“What was that boy who was with the two of you called?” Mum trails off, looking down at her plate as though she were deep in thought.</p>
<p>James pauses. </p>
<p>“Adam?” </p>
<p>“Yes! Your partner, Adam.” Mum confirmed it. I didn’t want to make eye-contact with anyone because it would just fuel the fire and add to the awkwardness, I had already cursed the room with. </p>
<p>“My friend Adam.” James corrects, eyes still as confident and bright as ever. “He used to be my partner.” </p>
<p>This time, I glanced up to see his eyes meeting mine. We shared common ground – I didn’t know what that meant. All I knew is that my mum had truly outdone herself this time. It seems as though coming out would never stop her from trying to set me up with someone perfect for the family and evidently, James seemed to be their nirvana. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She sighs to him and then glances toward me. “We’ve never had Niall bring a boy home to us.” </p>
<p>“I’m too busy for that.” I snap, my mind immediately going to the taste of strawberry wine and smell of cigarettes. </p>
<p>“Oh, stop that.” She chuckles. “You just haven’t met the right person.” </p>
<p>“I haven’t been looking.” </p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” James perks up again. “Things like that take time.” </p>
<p>“I would have no idea.” I lazily smile up to him. “I’m not the type of guy to date or… anything. I’m just boring.” </p>
<p>“I highly doubt that.” There was that glint in his eye. He really made me feel comfortable and I spent the rest of the dinner wishing I hadn’t met Zayn.  </p>
<p>James seemed like such a nice guy – he had more charisma than I thought humanely necessary and built me up to a place I felt so incredibly sure of myself. </p>
<p>But it simply didn’t compare. </p>
<p>I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I hated myself for it. </p>
<p>Clearly, I played the fool; stuck in a position of a nonreciprocating crush. While it was a new sensation, I had read about it in all great literature and often scoffed at such idea. Now, I’m the sorry sack reliving a single night every chance I could. </p>
<p>After the plates had been cleared, I knew I had to wind down without either parent tugging at two very distinct expectations they had for me. One, the guy that was going to take over the family business and the other, a husband to a very successful and wealthy man. I needed a break before I could resume with it. Throughout my life, each lecture became numb.</p>
<p>My parents just wanted me to fill the role I was born into. I knew my duty. </p>
<p>I meandered to the library by my father’s study. Collapsing to the chesterfield lounge, I knew I had to gather every single thing I might’ve said wrong to the painfully attractive lawyer in my dining room and throw it down the drain with every single thing I said wrong to Zayn. </p>
<p>When it came to men, I knew I needed to buckle down and study them. I had gone 18 years without a single male’s attention and now I’m trying to suppress any attraction to a wildly successful picture of my parent’s hopes and dreams for me with a gang leader who kissed me the night we met. </p>
<p>What was happening? </p>
<p>I sigh, glancing down at my silver watch to see the arms translate 7 o’clock. Like it was a second nature or pathetic ritual, I snatched up the remote to the small TV fitted between the bookshelves to observe the nightly news.</p>
<p>Not quite knowing what I was looking for, I internally cursed myself for sitting through yet another news story regarding an impending coal and carbon tax proposed on parliament. Boring.</p>
<p>“Ah… Didn’t pick you for a nightly news guy.” I hear that oh-so familiar voice say from behind me and I jump up – reaching for the remote. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not.” I blush. “It’s just something I’ve been doing lately – with everything that’s been going on in Bradford.” </p>
<p>He nods about before sliding onto the chesterfield couch right by me. I bit my lip as he loosened his tie and glanced back up with such trusting eyes. </p>
<p>“It’s bad, huh?” He sighs, shaking his head. “A friend of mine works for a criminal law firm just a few minutes out of town and he’s booked out with all sort of complaints.” </p>
<p>“I can imagine.” I huff, watching the television once more. “I’m glad we’re up here – away from all that trouble.” </p>
<p>He pauses and raises an eyebrow. Oh gosh… did I say something wrong?</p>
<p>“Look at it the other way.” He proposes. “I see it as a matter of circumstance. A lot of these people who are causing all type of carnage on Bradford are only doing it for one of three reasons.” </p>
<p>“Go on.” </p>
<p>“One; the economy is screwed. Not many come from money – the rich are getting richer and the poor are falling behind. I’m sure there’s a lot of money in the underworld of Bradford, that’s why it’s so active.” He begins. </p>
<p>“What are the other reasons?”</p>
<p>“Well two; it’s some sort of social revolt – cause and effect. The economy is screwed… and they’re blaming Bradford politicians for it. The more crime committed, the more motivation for those up the top to put their foot down and get their act together.” As he continues, I couldn’t help but to bite my lip. I got it now. The success… the charisma… the way my dad and mum seemed so infatuated with him – he had a lot of things figured out. </p>
<p>“And third?”</p>
<p>“Third.” He huffs. “Some people just do it… because they can. Some just want to be on top – no matter the means.” </p>
<p>I glance at my lap – wondering which category Zayn fell in according to James’ ideology. Gosh, I didn’t even know enough about the gang leader to slot him in anywhere. </p>
<p>“Wow.” I huff. “You should run for Prime Minister.” </p>
<p>He snorts and crosses his arms. </p>
<p>“There’s a reason I went into law and not political science.” </p>
<p>“Well from my experience,” I sit up, “being a lawyer and politician are just as messy and dramatic as each other.” </p>
<p>“You’re very clever.” He chuckles. “And more than correct. I guess being a lawyer takes away the big platform.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I get it.” I sigh. “I’d hate to have a big platform. I’m not very good at speaking, if you hadn’t already gathered.” </p>
<p>“Hey… I know we just met and all and I am way out of line with no authority saying this,” He starts, and I bite my lip expectantly, “but you put yourself down way too much. </p>
<p>He was serious now and I for once, felt so warm. Whether that being from the golden oak surrounding us and the deep brown chesterfield we existed upon, or it being his slumped position where he omitted such comfortability and ease. I smiled to myself.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry for that.” I huff. “I’m trying to work on it.” </p>
<p>“There’s nothing wrong with being the smartest guy in the room.” He shakes his head. “You have to do what you can to let people know that cos’ this world will chew you up and spit you out.” </p>
<p>“Maybe it’s my turn to speak out of line without authority,” I smile up at him, repeating what he had just said to me, “but you can’t act like the world did anything like that to you. You’re probably the most put together person I’ve ever met and you’re what? A few years old than me?” </p>
<p>He smiles to himself. </p>
<p>“I am far from that.” He says. “And I have a lot of work to do in order to become that.” </p>
<p>“I don’t believe you.” I murmur. “You have it all, seemingly.” </p>
<p>“Ha. Seemingly.” He points out. “It looks like it, but I’m missing out.” </p>
<p>“Missing out on what?” I scoff playfully. “Nice car, by the way.” </p>
<p>He licks his lips, leaning his head on his hand with such a teasing smile. </p>
<p>“Missing out on someone, I guess.” He trails off. “Yeah, I worked my ass off to get the job with your dad and I’m starting to really make friends in all the right places in the Bradford scene… but when I come home to my flat at the end of the day, it’s just me and my nice car.” </p>
<p>“That sounds horrible.” I tease. “I don’t know how you go on.” </p>
<p>“Believe me, it’s a struggle.” He chuckles. “Sometimes I have to open the blinds to see the car.” </p>
<p>“You’re funny, James.” I smile at him, observing that glint in his eye. “Thanks for making me feel better about myself – I needed that today.” </p>
<p>“Really, anytime.” He smiles back. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride sometime in it as well – you’ll finally get to see what I come home to.” </p>
<p>While I knew it came from a humorous place, a part of that invitation struck a cord. I shouldn’t linger on it… I’m doing so well. </p>
<p>“I would love to take you up on that offer, actually.” I say, leaving behind any doubts or thoughts of another man. “I mean… It sure beats the car I have to drive around in.” </p>
<p>“You know, your Dad has spoken to me about your graduation present.” He raises an eyebrow teasingly. “You’ll be the one showing your car off in a few weeks.” </p>
<p>“Maybe.” I huff to my lap. “We’ll see.” </p>
<p>He pauses for a moment and bites his lip. </p>
<p>“I was being slightly serious though.” He says cautiously. “I am happy to take you for a ride – if you really want.” </p>
<p>I felt my stomach drop with such nervousness. This is what I wanted. I wanted to feel… wanted. </p>
<p>“Yes I’d love to.” I say with a smile and he returns one I’m sure with as much enthusiasm. </p>
<p>“Fine – does Tuesday 5 o’clock work? I only have one client and I’m sure your Dad won’t care if I leave a little early.” </p>
<p>“That’s perfect. I’m actually very excited for it.”  </p>
<p>He was watching me with such kind eyes – I wanted to melt. I felt such a sweet sensation of comfort and confidence. Perhaps my mother is a genius.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Uh… Who is that at the door?” Liam says from his hunched position on the couch, textbook in hand. I double check my appearance in the mirror as I brush past it; while I had never been on a date in my entire life, a pair of beige chinos and my favourite green t-shirt seemed like a nice combination for whatever James had to throw at me. </p>
<p>Embarrassingly, I had been anticipating this night since he had proposed it. Was I to be swept off my feet like every heroine I had read about up until this point? Would the budding connection my parents so generously orchestrated turn into something more? Was I to kiss him and remove the taste and memory of one Zayn Malik? </p>
<p>Perhaps so. </p>
<p>James made me feel rather nervous. I wanted to impress him – I wanted to spend the night having intellectual conversations about the political world of Bradford and exchange nuances; as well as spark debates. He made me feel at home in myself, while also pushing me to become something more. </p>
<p>Seemingly, this seemed like a great pastime in the lead-up to exams. He had such intelligence and oozed confidence. I wanted to grab ahold of it and never let go in hopes that it led me somewhere better. </p>
<p>But first – I had to explain to my best friend in the whole world a little tid-bit I had failed to mention since James had asked. </p>
<p>“Uh…” I begin in a similar manner. “James – he’s taking me out on a date.” </p>
<p>“Niall.” He gapes. “W-When were you going to tell me?” </p>
<p>“Uh… right now?” </p>
<p>“Is he the guy from the other night?” He whispers, listening to the door knock once more. “You know, the asshole-”</p>
<p>“Nope.” I huff, grabbing the denim jacket slumped over my desk chair, wanting to completely avoid the topic altogether. “I will explain everything when I get home, I promise.” </p>
<p>He only watches me with expectant eyes before failing to his notes. I’m sorry, best friend. </p>
<p>I quickly run to the door, swinging it open to see the man who had been texting me the past 2 days. He graciously accepted my number and engaged in a tango of budding excitement and built-up anticipation for tonight’s events. </p>
<p>He looked just as handsome as I remembered; green pressed work pants held up by a dark brown leather belt, a light-blue dress shirt rolled to the forearm and enclosed in a dark blue blazer. Obviously, he had just left work but differing from a lot of the snooty-dressed gentlemen at my father’s firm, there was a coolness and raging sense of youth radiating off the lawyer. </p>
<p>“Sorry I’m late.” That charming smile was so contagious. “Come here, you look so nice.” </p>
<p>He leans forward and pulls me into a hug. I was so caught up by the scent of what I can only assume was a very expensive cologne that I forgot to pull back after a measly 4 seconds. </p>
<p>“Thank you – so do you.” I chuckle, tilting my head to the side. “Are you ready to go?” </p>
<p>“Yes, I am.” He grins. </p>
<p>“Hi!” Both James and I glance over at Liam, waving on the couch with his knees tucked into his chest, reading glasses stuck to his nose. “I’m Liam.” </p>
<p>“Lovely to meet you Liam, I’m James.” He waves back and again, I felt something turn inside of me, he had such a magnetic presence. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal him away for a bit.” </p>
<p>My best friend chuckles in response and if it weren’t for Liam’s raging straightness, I could swear he was blushing. James really had that type of aura. </p>
<p>“I don’t mind – he needs to be stolen away.” He snorts. “He hasn’t left this room in weeks.” </p>
<p>“Liam.” I narrow my eyes and purse my lips earning a light chuckle from the lawyer beside me. </p>
<p>“Well I promise him a good time.” His eyes meet mine and I bite my lip in response. “He won’t be home too late either.” </p>
<p>“Bye Liam,” I huff with a smile, grabbing the door. </p>
<p>“Have fun – don’t stay out passed your bedtime.” He winks back and I roll my eyes. “Nice meeting you, James.” </p>
<p>James only responds in that charismatic smile and I shut the door behind us, pressing myself up against it. </p>
<p>“Sorry about him… he’s been all I’ve had for years.” I shake my head. “He means well, I promise.” </p>
<p>“No - I like him.” The lawyer shrugs as we go toward the stairs. “Ready to head off?” </p>
<p>“Depends where you’re taking me.” I raise an eyebrow, feeling his arm snake around my back. </p>
<p>“Well, I had plans to take you to some fancy restaurant to impress you…” He trails off. “But then I found out from your father that you just went there for your birthday and I wouldn’t be the first one to take you there. You’re very difficult to woo, Niall.” </p>
<p>I snort, shaking my head. </p>
<p>“No, no – we can go there if you really want. The food is amazing – I’m happy to go again.” I say with hopeful eyes. “Besides, do I look like the type of guy to care about that stuff? We only went there for my mum.” </p>
<p>“You’re very intimidating.” He raises an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Me?” I retort quizzically, glancing down at my denim jacket clad torso and Converse sneakers. </p>
<p>“Yes, you.” He says, squeezing my waist. “I was rather nervous for tonight.” </p>
<p>“That’s surprising, I thought it was just me.” </p>
<p>We continue the light chatter until we reach the carpark. I bit my lip, seeing his silver convertible parked. </p>
<p>“And you call me intimidating.” I say up to him, watching him click it unlocked. </p>
<p>“It’s only an illusion, Niall.” He smiles. “Just a symbol to prove to my clients that I’m the guy that should represent them.” </p>
<p>“Do you say that to all your dates?” </p>
<p>“Just the ones that matter.” He winks back, opening the passenger door for me. “Now hop in – where do you want me to take you?” </p>
<p>“Uh…” I trail my eyes about the classic car, buckling myself in. “I’m honestly happy going anywhere.” </p>
<p>I felt no dominant role here – just as I felt in every relationship with everyone in my life – I wanted to leave it up to him. </p>
<p>“Come on,” He says, “We’ll go a place I know on the pier.” </p>
<p>“Nothing too fancy, right?” I utter, feeling slightly insecure that he felt the need to impress me as though these material things really matter to me. </p>
<p>“Just the right amount.” He nods about. “Let’s get going.” </p>
<p>The ride was fast and smooth – I loved feeling the wind in my hair and such a freeing energy. I was torn between this beautiful convertible and a classic motorcycle. Both on complete differing ends of the scale and yet they conflicted and coexisted within my subconscious perfectly. I needed to focus on James, my date, and not the man who made me feel as small as he made me feel liberated. </p>
<p>At the restaurant he did everything I had seen of dates in film and media flawlessly. The man held the door open, pushed my chair in, paid the bill and sparked such interesting conversation over the span of an hour and a half meal. If this is what a date with James was like, I almost felt addicted. </p>
<p>He enjoyed a glass of red wine and per my request and slight embarrassment, ordered me a lemonade. </p>
<p>“I wish that place did takeout.” I beam up to him as we exit the restaurant, his hand on my back as we strolled the pier. There was hardly a cloud in sight and the gradual darkness becoming of the sky made me glad I brought a denim jacket. “I could eat that all day every day.” </p>
<p>“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He chuckles, pulling me closer to him as we walked. “If you loved it that much, I’d be happy to bring you back anytime.”</p>
<p>“I’d really love that.” There was a skip in my step. “I never thought I’d enjoy being around someone who is so close to my dad so much… It’s kinda’ weird.” </p>
<p>He shoots me a playful glare.</p>
<p>“If you think I’m like some of the other guys at the firm, you’re dead wrong.” He raises an eyebrow, a glint of lightness in his eyes. “I’m the token young guy.” </p>
<p>“Yeah… the young guy who hangs out with old boring men.” I tease, nudging him. </p>
<p>“It must say a lot about you if you’re the one who agreed to go on a date with me?” He smiles with a hint of smugness. I simply sigh happily. </p>
<p>“A lot of people would agree to go on a date with you I’m sure.” </p>
<p>“That is true.” He huffs sarcastically. “You are the lucky one here.” </p>
<p>I glanced down over the edge of the pier at the water softly hitting the wooden pegs holding us up below. It was calming yet something about its blackness sat a little unsteady in my stomach. I was so comfortable up here on the surface, I wanted to deflect the freezing cold water beneath us. </p>
<p>“You know,” I lean my arms against the railing. “I think this is exactly what my parents had in mind when they invited the both of us over for dinner the other night.” </p>
<p>He chuckles, looking down at the water also. </p>
<p>“As soon as you came out a few weeks ago, your mother came into the office to tell me personally.” He snorts, shaking his head. “For myself, I’ve never been sought out by the parents of anyone I’ve dated.” </p>
<p>“Yeah… she’s kind of relentless when it comes to that sort of thing.” I murmur. “My whole life she has had a plan for me – I guess that includes dictating who I date.” </p>
<p>“Is that okay with you?” He raises an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Initially, no.” I huff. “When I hadn’t come out, she constantly brought over the daughters of my dad’s rich friends for me to hang around with. I thought telling her I was gay would put it to a stop, but here I am tonight with you… and I’m so okay with it.” </p>
<p>“I can’t imagine what it’s like to be thrusted into a relationship like that.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been lucky with my parents… they’ve given me freedom.” </p>
<p>“Oh no, it’s not like they have forced me to do anything.” I shake my head. “You saw how it was the other night – while they’re not subtle about their intentions, I know that if I didn’t like you as much as I do, they’d just try again until I was happy.” </p>
<p>“Wow. I’m happy that I made the cut.” He nudges me, warming up my insides. “You have so much going for you, Niall. I get why they only want the best.” </p>
<p>“And you think you qualify as the best?” I tease, biting my lip. </p>
<p>“I think I do.” He glances about. “I am a killer restaurant picker and I’m starting to get the impression that you like me, almost as much as your mother does.” </p>
<p>“Wow. The guy with the nice sports car thinks he’s the best.” I smirk. “That’s a shocker.” </p>
<p>“Stop it.” He leans closer to me with a small chuckle. I felt shaky at the closeness between us. I wanted to seal it shut and fully envision everything the young lawyer had to offer, and I knew he wanted to do the same. I bit my lip, keeping myself from such temptation. I’m not there yet. I needed a bit of time. </p>
<p>“I- Ah…” I huff, watching him pull back slightly. “Do you wanna’ go somewhere?” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he gains his composure back and buttons up his navy-blue blazer. “Got anywhere in mind?” </p>
<p>“We could go and get a drink?” I offer out, watching him furrow his brows. He was probably confused as to why his date who ordered a lemonade at dinner wanted to go and get a drink.</p>
<p>“Sure…” He trails off. “I know a nice bar in the city-”</p>
<p>“What about we go downtown?” I bit my lip and held my hands behind my back. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking to see, or what I intended for the two of us as I said this. I hadn’t heard anything on the news for days and for all I knew, Zayn and the Damnation had probably bounced to the next town. I guess I just wanted to see if the same background omitted similar feelings for James that I had developed for the gang leader. “I’m sure there’s a great bar there.” </p>
<p>“Downtown…?” He scrunches up his face. “I don’t think there’s anywhere there that you’d like.” </p>
<p>“Don’t speak too soon.” I shake my head. “There’s tons of bars there – there’s gotta’ be a few good ones.” </p>
<p>“I guess we can go there.” He furrows his brow once more. “You know, you’re full of surprises.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I am.” My conscience agrees. “Let’s go – it’s getting dark anyway.” </p>
<p>“Come on,” he huffs, throwing an arm around my waist as we walk back to his car. Something in my stomach was flipping out. Was it the nerves of heading back to the darker area of Bradford? Was it the fact that I anticipated to kiss the stunning looking guy who had just taken me to dinner? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. </p>
<p>“Have you ever been out around here?” I question as we pull up to the main street. While not as busy as the Saturday night I attended on, it still had quite the few shady characters roaming about. </p>
<p>“Can’t say I have.” He murmurs, looking out for a park. He seemed uncomfortable and simply looked like a fish out of water. I couldn’t help but notice the strange looks we got as we began to slow down, nearing an unoccupied parking space. This car did not look like it belonged here.</p>
<p>Once we park, I gulp as a group of teenagers out the front of a convenience store eye the car off hungrily. This seemed to make the lawyer slightly nervous if the silence going through the vehicle meant anything. </p>
<p>He simply leans forward, pressing a button that began automatically closed the top of the convertible. I chuckle beneath my breath at his insecurity and rather wariness of the area we had just entered. </p>
<p>“Again… You’re sure you wanna’ go to a bar here?” </p>
<p>“Yes I’m sure.” I nod about. “I mean, it might be fun?” </p>
<p>“Well, okay.” He says, shrugging. “Let’s see how we go.”</p>
<p>We both exit the car – the group of rougher looking teens in front of us not leaving our eyesight. He clicks it locked and walks around the car to meet me. As we head to the right, I watch him lock it once more – just for luck.</p>
<p>“It’s not that bad.” I drawl, feeling an arm protectively snake itself around my waist. </p>
<p>“It’s a good thing I have insurance.” He mutters, probably in hope I didn’t hear. I roll my eyes. As great as he seemed, like me, he had spent his entire life in a bubble. </p>
<p>“You know, if you’re really worried, we can go to that bar in the city you were talking about?” I raise an eyebrow as we stroll the main street. </p>
<p>“No… it’s not a big deal.” He shakes his head. “If that makes you happy – I’m happy to oblige. See anywhere you like?” </p>
<p>I sigh, looking ahead. There were three bars within eyeshot of where we were. The closest was some red-light bar with loud and rather irritating music that could be heard from down the road. The second, an empty looking watering hole with two old men sitting out the front of it – clearly slurring their words. I gulped, in hopes that the last would be somewhat better. </p>
<p>I think we mutually agreed in a non-verbal manner that those two were not what we were after and we silently headed to the last one before the suspicious looking tax office on the corner. </p>
<p>It was dimly lit – each table was illuminated by a candle. There was an oak bar where a few people were seated and quite a few pictures on the wall. The leather seats, from what I could see, were a dark purple and a few neon signs were hung up on each wall. </p>
<p>Without asking permission, I push the door open and as we walk in, I couldn’t help but notice each head glance up at us. The men inside were rather rough looking, each with a darkness hidden behind a drink. They stop talking as the rock music in the background seems to play on. I gulped and felt James next to me tense up. While this seemed the best out of a bad bunch, I couldn’t help but feel so utterly intimidated by being in here. </p>
<p>This bar was the epitome of the downtown area of Bradford. Perhaps it would lead to something I liked. </p>
<p>“This spot… seems good.” James practically pulls me in the booth by the corner where we could enjoy a slight bit of privacy. The walls were an exposed red brick and each image exuded a little personal touch. It was like they were images taken by whoever owned the bar. </p>
<p>“This is nice.” It wasn’t a complete lie. If it weren’t from the strange looking glares we received on our way in, I could really appreciate the overall ambience of the area. “It’s rather cozy.” </p>
<p>“You could call it that.” He glances about before his eyes land on me. “I certainly didn’t pick you as the type of guy to wanna’ come some place like this.” </p>
<p>“There’s a first time for everything James.” I huff, biting my lip. “Let’s at least enjoy it, hm?” </p>
<p>“I guess so.” He looks about once more, eyes grazing the bar fully stocked with alcohol. “Would you like a drink?” </p>
<p>“Yes please.” I nod. “Just get me… whatever you get.” </p>
<p>“Will a beer do?” </p>
<p>“Perfect.” I had never even tried beer, but I wanted to show off a side of me that differed from any previous expectations he most definitely had for me. </p>
<p>“Okay – I’ll be back.” He slides out of the booth and up to the bar. I practically snorted at the sight of him. Such an expensive looking suit leant up against the dark oak seemed as though it were a magnet for the guys sitting closest to it. He looked like a fish out of water and his expression surely reflected that. </p>
<p>“If I don’t get a drink within the next five seconds, I’m going to fucking shoot someone.” I hear a voice boom loudly, entering the bar with such a raging commotion. A chuckling voice follows him, and I gulp, watching them completely miss me and make their way inside the venue. </p>
<p>“Anyone see that nice as fuck car out the front?” The other laughs aloud and I glance over at James to see him turnaround from his leant position to glance at them. </p>
<p>From behind, I could tell they were guys I did not want to mess with. One, wearing a black singlet and loose black cargo pants, utilised what seemed to be an endless stream of arm tattoos as a focal point. Whereas the other, wore what looked like a dark green hoodie encased in a black leather jacket and black jeans. Each with what seemed to be dark brown hair – one short, the other rather shaggy. </p>
<p>“Christ some people just rub me the wrong way.” The one with shorter hair grumbles, leaning up against the bar. “I need a whiskey – now. I am just… in a state.” </p>
<p>“What happened this time?” The bartender snorts, grabbing a bottle – presumably whiskey – from the cabinet. </p>
<p>“Just… wankers on a bike.” He murmurs. “I know we gotta’ keep things on the downlow but you wouldn’t believe the self-control it takes me to just… hold it together.”</p>
<p>“You’re a saint.” The bartender presents the ranting man with his drink and my eyes widen as the taller of the two slides himself next to James. </p>
<p>“You the one who belongs to the nice car parked out front?” He nudges him and James’ eyes meet mine, seemingly filled with disdain for the situation unfolding in front of him. </p>
<p>“Yeah – it’s mine.” He replies, now earning the attention of the short haired man who had his glass held tightly. The barkeep walks over to James with cautious eyes, sliding him two beers. As James pays, I couldn’t help but gulp at the fact that the two men were still watching. </p>
<p>“It sure is nice…” The one with the longer hair huffs. </p>
<p>“Thank you.” James says bluntly. “Excuse me.” </p>
<p>He ricochets off the bar and begins to walk toward me. They both copy and I now begin to suspect that coming here with the lawyer was more than a mistake. Each had such a dark look in their blue and green eyes respectively. </p>
<p>James slides himself into the booth and I bite my lip, watching as they continue to follow in suit. I take a proper look at each one this time, the taller of the two had such a young face – seemingly younger than me… definitely too young to be in this bar. His eyebrow pierced with silver and his lips upturned into a smirk. The man accompanying him, however, surely deserved the title of man. He had piercing blue eyes and rather mousy features which contradicted the gold chains around his neck and many tattoos, clearly seen from the neckline of his singlet and spewing out onto his arms. He seemed familiar… too familiar. </p>
<p>“Nice to meet you, gentlemen.” The two stand by the booth, arms leant against the heads of the seats, almost closing us in. James’ glare deepened at them.</p>
<p>“Can we help you?” He hits out and the oldest of the two grins. </p>
<p>“Yeah… shove over.” Blue eyes don’t leave those of my date’s and he apprehensively obliges, moving over. Under their watch, I do the same. </p>
<p>The younger of the two takes the seat next to me, eyes with a familiar glint in them and the other sits by James. Boy… we sure made a mistake. </p>
<p>I stay quiet, watching as they both turn to me. </p>
<p>“Wanna’ introduce yourself?” The younger of the two lets out, a pierced eyebrow raised. </p>
<p>“I’m N-Niall.” The stuttering causes me to cringe internally. Sometimes, I really despised myself and how I conducted myself in these types of situations. </p>
<p>“Harry.” He smirks and as he says this, I read on the pocket of his leather jacket his name, written exactly as he said it. Beneath it, the word ‘Apprentice’ is sewn on there and the sense of familiarity irks me. It couldn’t be… </p>
<p>“Niall, huh?” The older guy huffs, tilting his head to the side. I squint my eyes at him, remembering his face from somewhere that I couldn’t quite decipher. “Quite the unique name there.” </p>
<p>“Yep.” I pop, gripping onto the beer bottle tightly, feeling James’ worried presence. </p>
<p>“Where have I heard it?” He turns to Harry, an eyebrow raised. He simply shrugs and returns to staring at the two of us. </p>
<p>“Can I help you guys out?” James perks up once more and the blue-eyed man smirks, turning toward him. </p>
<p>“You can, actually.” He grins. “I’m just so curious… and anyone who knows me, knows that curiosity eats me up.” </p>
<p>James’ eyes don’t leave his and I could slightly see a dominant side to him. </p>
<p>“What is it that you’re curious about?” My date mutters, voice rather low. </p>
<p>“What you’re doing here.” He replies, licking his lips. “Don’t get me wrong – I love seeing a man in uniform come into my bar… but we’ve never seen a nice rich one come in.” </p>
<p>James doesn’t reply, he simply takes a swig of his beer and I gulp, looking down. </p>
<p>“And you… Blondie.” He utters out the nickname and my stomach completely drops. The familiarity of his face wasn’t quite coming to me, but hearing that, it brought back so many unexpected feelings. “You’re his… boyfriend?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-Um…” </p>
<p>“Tomlinson – don’t make him nervous.” Harry snorts and my eyes narrow at the man across from him. Louis Tomlinson. He just got out of custody, he is in The Damnation, his mugshot is engraved in my memory – he is the living and breathing embodiment of everything I have been paying attention to on the news for the past week and a bit, more importantly he knows-</p>
<p>“Malik would like this one.” He points to me and my eyes widen. I couldn’t make it obvious… I really couldn’t. “You’re his… niche.” </p>
<p>James’ gaze meets mine. I gulp. </p>
<p>“You must carry a lot of money.” Harry drawls over to James but I hardly pay attention at their to-and-fro. Louis Tomlinson’s eyes continue to stare into mine. It was like he was working out a puzzle and he seemed very-much invested in reaching a solution. While he didn’t wear a gang jacket, I only presumed he owned one. I took the time to reach an assumption that Harry, as an ‘Apprentice’, didn’t qualify for the version I saw Zayn wear. </p>
<p>“Look – I’m not sure what you want.” James utters. “I don’t have any cash on me – sorry.” </p>
<p>“Hey, hey…” Louis trails off. “You don’t need to get ahead of yourself. Do you really think that we’d rob you at gunpoint?” </p>
<p>The way he said this… I wanted to blurt out a big fat ‘yes!’ </p>
<p>“I don’t believe so, no.” He huffs, looking about. “You don’t strike me as the type to do well in prison.” </p>
<p>I practically gape at James for saying this. Stop it, you idiot. He seemed to not realise who he was talking to and I just wanted to grab him and walk out of this establishment and back to the restaurant we had a blissful dinner within. </p>
<p>“You a cop or something, pretty boy?” He smirks back, eyes so devilishly dark. “I surely hope you’re not.” </p>
<p>“No…” James replies and this time, I felt Harry watching me intently. “I don’t need to be a cop.” </p>
<p>“I like this one.” Harry huffs, still staring. “You’re so scared.” </p>
<p>Louis’ eyes snap to meet mine. </p>
<p>“You’re scared, Blondie?” He tilts his head to the side. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to answer, Niall.” James gets out, clearly trying to deflect any potential situation from happening. “We should be leaving anyway.” </p>
<p>“Leave? Who said you could leave?” Louis’ voice deepened and I fully regretted my decision to come here. From everything I had read about him… I wanted to run. “This is my bar – I’d like you to stay.” </p>
<p>“Who said this is your bar?” The bartender calls over, smug look on his face. Louis only turns to glare. </p>
<p>“This is my bar.” He repeats to the lawyer who does nothing but stiffen his gaze. “Why don’t you stay so we can get to know each other?”</p>
<p>“You do love meeting new people Tomlinson,” Harry huffs, tilting his head to the side. </p>
<p>“Yes… I do.” He drawls slowly and I bit my lip, seeing the way he looked at James differing so incredibly to the way he looked at me. He genuinely seemed to want to start some sort of fight with my date who wasn’t backing down. </p>
<p>I felt a tinge within my stomach, and I looked at the two gangsters desperately. </p>
<p>“We really don’t want any trouble.” I try and smile as friendly as possible. “This is my first time in a bar – we’re just here to have a drink.” </p>
<p>“Like a date?” Louis squints his eyes. </p>
<p>“Yes.” James says quickly. “Exactly like a date.” </p>
<p>“Romantic.” The blue-eyed boy grips ahold of the gold chain around his neck, continuing his stare toward my direction. </p>
<p>“I’m happy for you guys to join us – I’m sure the rule still applies that the more the merrier.” Perhaps combating this form of intimidation with kindness will work. I mean… it had to or we’d be in trouble. </p>
<p>“Okay. I accept.” Louis grins toward me. “What a lovely invitation, Blondie.” </p>
<p>I send forth a gentle smile in his direction.</p>
<p>“Do you know what would be nice?” Harry says, head on the hand that leant against the table. “If you got me a drink… I would really appreciate it.” </p>
<p>“He would.” Louis validates. “Not many nice people come in here and buy young Styles a drink. I’m sure it’d make his day.” </p>
<p>I gulp and place a hand on my wallet. </p>
<p>“O-Okay… what would you like, Harry?” I say in a small voice. </p>
<p>“Niall – you don’t need to-”</p>
<p>“It’s okay.” I cut James off, appreciating that he was so concerned. I seemed to have earned the respect of a member of their gang prior to tonight – it wouldn’t hurt to do so with two more. Just to ensure that we could leave intact. “Harry?” </p>
<p>“A beer would be lovely.” He bats his long lashes and slides out of the booth for me to go up to the bar. I look back at James and almost frown, not wanting anything bad to happen to him. </p>
<p>“A beer it is…” I whisper, standing to my feet and slowly walking to the bar. The barkeep seemed too interested in a conversation with one of the men in a barstool. </p>
<p>Too eaten by anxiety to call out for him, my eyes travel to the corner of the establishment seeing three doors. One; a male’s toilet, two, the female counter part and three; one with a bit of text that was rather hard to decipher from this distance. </p>
<p>Each step I take closer toward it, I felt my stomach turn once more – bringing back a feeling I felt just over a week ago while on the back of Zayn’s motorcycle. </p>
<p>‘The Damned’ the door read and in smaller text, ‘Authorized personnel only.’ </p>
<p>I wanted to open it so bad… I wanted to see if he was in there, I wanted to revisit every single euphoric moment of time he had given me. I couldn’t… and so, I turned on my heel to head back to the bar before I heard a clicking of the door. </p>
<p>Oh gosh…</p>
<p>“Blondie.” He murmurs and this time, I was almost trembling at his voice. I had wanted to see, hear, listen and talk to him since we had last encountered one another. </p>
<p>Everything was thrown into the equation at this point. My trembling heart and buckling knees, the burning presence of James sitting only a few steps away, the way Louis and Harry were so pressed in intimidating the two of us and the man I both feared and missed the most standing directly behind me. </p>
<p>For the first time ever… I felt so disorganized and out of order.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Slow eyes glanced up at him. Unlike the other night where he was utterly hidden beneath a baggy white t-shirt, I fully envisioned his body and every single carved muscle and tattoo. He had a black button up shirt tucked into the same black jeans with the same silver chain on them. The top three buttons were undone and I noticed some chest tattoos decorated with some silver necklaces around his neck. His sleeves were rolled to his shoulders tightly and my eyes met the same works of art I had dreamt about since I last saw him. </p>
<p>Suddenly, it all kicked in. Did I look crazy for bumping into him? What I saw as an honest accidental encounter, may come off as something else. This is the last time I follow my inhibitions and come downtown. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” I whisper, backing away from the man with such magnetic eyes. They didn’t leave mine but I knew I had to get James and run so far away from the situation unfolding in front of me. My fight or flight stimulus remained as prominent as ever… it was no toss up where I fell on that spectrum. </p>
<p>He says nothing but grabs my wrist tightly, keeping me in solitude by the corner of the bar with him. My breath hitches at his touch.</p>
<p>“What – What are you doing here? Are you looking for me?” Such deep eyes bore into mine. I wanted to fall into this embrace, knowing good and well I couldn’t do that to myself – not again. </p>
<p>“No… No… I had no idea that this was…” I glance at the sign reading ‘The Damned’ behind him on the door, “your bar.” </p>
<p>He pauses slowly, eyes creeping about my face as if this were the first time he had ever seen me. The only night I felt the intensity of how he observed my movements, but this was an accelerated version of it.</p>
<p>“You love coming to this part of town, don’t you?” He drawls, lip bitten. </p>
<p>I felt myself getting distracted by the three buttons undone at the top of his black linen shirt. I just wanted to stare at him all day. Gosh… Stop it, Niall. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” I whisper once more. “I really have to go.” </p>
<p>“Are you with someone?” He says plainly, eyebrow raised and I gulp. He was watching me so expectantly and I somehow felt too insecure to even answer. </p>
<p>I nod. </p>
<p>“Who?” He snaps his eyes toward the seating within the bar and I place a hand on his chest, earning his gaze. </p>
<p>“Zayn…” I start slowly. “This was a mistake. Now, we have to go.” </p>
<p>“Blondie.” He huffs, lip curling beneath his teeth. “I’m only gonna’ say this once more… Who are you with?” </p>
<p>I glare at him – these words eradicated any of the prior affection I felt toward his presence and instead, brought back the feelings of rejection. </p>
<p>“You don’t seriously have an issue with me being with someone… do you?” He seemed surprised at my response and even more taken aback with my hand leaving his chest. As I pull it away, he grabs my wrist once more, returning it to its previous position over his heart. As much as I wanted to squirm and gulp, cower and fret – I stayed true to what I felt and refused to rip my eyes from his. </p>
<p>“What are you talking about, Blondie?” Voice low and raspy. </p>
<p>“You made it perfectly clear to me, Zayn.” My gaze narrows. “You told me not to get attached… and I haven’t.” </p>
<p>Gosh, I was a bad liar and he knew it – if his lips slowly turning into that smug smirk were anything to go by. I need to get better a lying if I were t keep any sort of contact with the gang leader. </p>
<p>“You haven’t, hm?” He whispers, stepping closer to me – my arm bending as it connected the two of us. “Then what are you doing here in my bar?” </p>
<p>“If I had have known that this was your bar… I wouldn’t be here.” </p>
<p>Once more, that smug grin. </p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” He murmurs, eyes flicking to my lips. “I don’t believe you.” </p>
<p>He maintained such a closeness between us, and I felt my heart soar and pit of my stomach begin to rise up. I wanted to taste him – and yet, I wanted to push him away and return to James. It didn’t help that a strand of his jet-black hair fell upon his forehead so lazily, as though it were irking me to just lean in and rekindle every explosion I felt the week prior. </p>
<p>“I’ve been thinking about you more than you’d ever know, Blondie.” He huffs, licking those pink lips. “Have you been thinking of me?” </p>
<p>“No.” I whisper back.  </p>
<p>“I love when you lie.” He says, placing his hand over mine that still remained atop his chest. “I can see right through you.”</p>
<p>“I’m not lying.” It was pathetic at this point. </p>
<p>He doesn’t reply and glances behind me. </p>
<p>“Prove it.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” </p>
<p>In saying that, I withdrew my hand from his grip and took two steps backward. He was watching me so smugly and cast the spell of dominance over me that I so desperately missed. </p>
<p>“I best be leaving.” I say, gaining some sort of composure, bettering myself. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not letting you go.” Dark eyes narrow toward me. “Not with somebody else.” </p>
<p>I bite my lip nervously, glancing behind me to see the top of James’ head still stuck in the booth with the two other gangsters we had met previously. Zayn seemed to follow my gaze if his stiffened glare in that direction meant anything. </p>
<p>“Excuse me,” he huffs, brushing past me roughly and I gulp, stalking my way behind him. This was only escalating into a situation worse than I could ever imagine. My night with Zayn remained knowledge only myself knew and James’ position in high society and closeness with my parents threatened to let that slip. </p>
<p>And I didn’t want Zayn to do anything stupid. </p>
<p>Oh gosh… I’ve brought all this down on the poor guy. </p>
<p>“Styles. Up.” I watch him snap at the younger boy at the table. Keeping his eyes down, he slowly gets up from his seated position, allowing the president to slip into his spot. </p>
<p>As I approach the table, I feel Harry brush past me with a hardened glare and head toward the bar. Louis’ gaze following him wasn’t subtle and it made me question the closeness between them. The elder of the two, however, returns to a smug expression and graciously welcomes Zayn to the group. Poor James. </p>
<p>“Niall.” My date breathes up at me, that concerned glare. From the moment he got here he wanted to leave – I felt horrible. </p>
<p>“Niall.” Zayn then turns to me, scooting over slightly and throwing an arm over the seat as though he were inviting me to sit. “Come here.” </p>
<p>James’ eyes were dark and watching the gang leader intently. </p>
<p>“Zayn…” I pace slowly, shaking my head at the gesture. </p>
<p>“You know him?” The lawyer turns up to me and I bite my lip, not even knowing how to articulate what I was feeling. </p>
<p>“Does he ever.” Louis smirks, tilting his head to the side as though the situation was more than entertaining for him. “I knew I had heard your name somewhere.” </p>
<p>“Sit down Blondie.” Zayn demands once more, showcasing the side of him I had seen in the news. “Please?” </p>
<p>And there they were, those bright eyes summoning me. </p>
<p>I ignore James’ pleading gaze and sit next to the gang leader, trying to keep my distance. He only pulls me toward him in response. </p>
<p>“How can I help you?” Zayn questions and I felt him squeeze the part of my waist where he held me. Utterly conflicted between his touch and the lawyer’s more than confused glances in my direction, I chose to stare over at Louis whose eyes were as dark as ever. </p>
<p>“I don’t need your help. Niall and I would like to leave.” He says, glaring between each man intently. </p>
<p>“What is it you do, hm?” The gang leader questions as though he were interrogating the man diagonal to me. “Or should I guess?” </p>
<p>His eyes were dark, and James simply stifles a similar glare. </p>
<p>“He looks like an accountant – or… a librarian.” Louis snorts, looking him up and down. “Certainly, someone who does not belong in here.” </p>
<p>“No…” Zayn mutters. “Something else… something important. My Blondie wouldn’t be with someone who wasn’t.” </p>
<p>As the words fell out of his mouth – ‘My Blondie’ – I felt something inside of me twitch. My eyes met James’ and the level of confusion on his face was astronomical. </p>
<p>“We’re leaving.” His eyes point in Zayn’s direction. “I don’t know whether you want my wallet or what… but I’ve had enough at this point. We’re going.” </p>
<p>“Hang on.” I gulp at the way Zayn was looking at him – it was as though it were the most entertaining thing in the world. The side I saw of him the other night didn’t seem to include the uber intimidating half of a topical gang leader. “You’re disrespecting me that much… you take what’s mine and think I’d stoop as low to what? Mug you?” </p>
<p>James doesn’t reply verbally. He just glanced between the two of us with such confused eyes. </p>
<p>“We need to leave.” I pointedly state toward Zayn who seemingly ignores me. </p>
<p>“He can leave.” He mutters back as I slide out of the booth. “You, Blondie, you stay.” </p>
<p>As I stand to my feet, I watch Louis’ amused smile taunt me as he threw an arm over James’ tense body. </p>
<p>“Are you proposing a deal, Malik?” He questions to the man in charge of his gang, looking down at the lawyer. </p>
<p>“No – I’m demanding it.” He replies and I couldn’t help but notice James gulping. </p>
<p>“Zayn – d-don’t be ridiculous.” I huff. “We came together, so we’ll leave together.” </p>
<p>“If he wants to leave… he can leave.” His eyes narrow up to me. “But you and I have unfinished business.” </p>
<p>I was quite taken back by this response since Zayn made it very clear to me that any endeavors made possible by me would be made redundant; that I couldn’t get attached. </p>
<p>“You and I have very different perceptions of that – and frankly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hit back, watching him smirk. </p>
<p>“Again,” he drawls, eyes turning back to meet James. “I’m happy for you to leave – but I’d like to talk to Niall.” </p>
<p>James was watching the situation in front of him as though it were a fever dream. </p>
<p>“I’m not just going to… Niall?” He huffs, looking up to me with desperate eyes. I had to bite the bullet here. Not that I wanted to stay with Zayn – okay maybe a lie – or abandon James after he had taken me out on a date, but the two of us were already too deep to escape. I knew the only way to do so would be to please the gang leader and set the lawyer free. </p>
<p>“No… You go. I’ll stay.” I whisper out, glaring down at the raven-haired man who was watching me so expectantly. </p>
<p>“Malik – we good with this?” Louis raises an eyebrow and Zayn simply nods, allowing the man next to my date slide out of the booth. </p>
<p>“I’m… I’m not okay with this Niall.” James whispers as he stands beside me. “I feel sick leaving you here in a place like this.” </p>
<p>“I know this guy.” I murmur back. “I’ll be fine – just go before it gets worse.” </p>
<p>I glance back down to Zayn who was smirking up at the man my senior. The suited man grunts, eyes meeting mine once more before he huffs and stalks out of the bar. </p>
<p>At this point, it was just Zayn, Louis and myself co-existing around the booth and I felt utterly sick for what they had done. This isn’t the man I took a ride with the other night. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe you.” I scoff, glaring at him. “Where do you get off?” </p>
<p>Louis snorts and pockets his hands. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna’ leave this one to you, Malik.” He grins, Zayn nodding him off and I watch as he returns to the bar with Harry who had been watching on this entire time. </p>
<p>The tension between Zayn and I could be cut with a knife. I made a huge mistake coming in here, especially with James and I had to let him know what he did was utterly wrong and misguided. </p>
<p>“Blondie-”</p>
<p>“You told me not to get attached.” This confidence was coming out of my behind. “I agreed and let you go off and on your way. I’m sorry I came in here tonight; I didn’t know this bar was yours.” </p>
<p>He doesn’t reply verbally… only watches me with those deep dark eyes holding so much intimacy and passion. Gosh – I had forgotten just how good looking he was, and I’d forever curse myself internally for thinking so. </p>
<p>Perhaps Zayn brought this side out of me. In each encounter we had, I felt pure frustration. This man wasn’t good. </p>
<p>“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He says simply, tilting his head to the side as I continue my propped-up stance. </p>
<p>“What does it matter?” I sigh, exhausted. “If I hadn’t stumbled upon this place – I would have never known.” </p>
<p>He bites his lip. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” He gets out, looking about. “And if you knew me, you’d know I’d never say that unless I meant it.” </p>
<p>I look to my feet – what was I meant to say to that? </p>
<p>“Let me make it up to you.” </p>
<p>“Zayn you don’t know the hole I’ve dug myself in.” I mutter, shaking my head. “I need to go and clean this up.” </p>
<p>“That… guy you were just with.” His eyes narrow. “I’m guessing you were on some kind of date.” </p>
<p>“Yeah.” I hit back, pressing a shoulder forward. “That’s what that was.” </p>
<p>“You like him?” He snorts, glancing over at the door once more. </p>
<p>“Yes, actually.” I huff, barely a lie. My subconscious remembered to mention that my affections for the lawyer were nowhere near as astronomical as they were for the man in front of me. But I had to deflect this. “He’s a good man.” </p>
<p>“He’s a bitch.” He chuckles once more, biting down on that pink lip I knew the taste of. </p>
<p>“He’s a good man.” I defend. “And now I have to explain to him how I know you.” </p>
<p>“I don’t see the problem here.” </p>
<p>“I do.” </p>
<p>He smirks – eyes narrowed, and cheekbones highlighted by the green neon sign illuminating the wall behind the bar. </p>
<p>“You’re somethin’ else, Blondie.” He repeats exactly what he told me the night we spent on his bike and I chuckled at myself pathetically. I couldn’t win – I didn’t know what I was trying to win. I wanted to stay here and relish in his company… but I couldn’t let him know that. </p>
<p>It was silent between us and I huff, placing my hand on the table in front of me where he sat. Respectively, I could tell we were both over whatever I had attempted to argue about. While I maintained such a shy guard the night we met, that was long gone. This Zayn had brought out a complete other side of me – perhaps the real me, and he seemed satisfied enough that he knew that. I guess I couldn’t be completely surprised at how this very anticipated meeting would go after a long hiatus of reading article after article about him – as though he were a subject to be studied. Somehow… I think I was subconsciously drawn here tonight, as if I were meant to be here. </p>
<p>“At least let me get you a drink.” He looks down at the beer in front of him that James had bought for me. I had no attraction to a bottle of beer and desired something rather sweeter. Zayn knew that. </p>
<p>“Yeah.” I shake my head. “I’d love one.” </p>
<p>“I won’t be long, Blondie.” </p>
<p>I watch him so intently as he slides out of the booth and toward the bar. The men sitting down who had previously kept to themselves watched him with such aim. Everyone here clearly knew who he was… and rightfully so. </p>
<p>He seemingly whispers something over to the bartender and the man sighs, almost looking annoyed. Zayn then stalks toward Louis and Harry, placing a hand on the elder of the duo’s shoulder and I observe a smirk. </p>
<p>“Got it.” Louis says, ricocheting off the bar and into my direction. As much as I previously wanted to gulp and cower in this man’s presence, Zayn just being here soothed that feeling. I gained as much composure as I possibly could. </p>
<p>“I’ve gotta’ say… It really was a pleasure meeting you.” His eyes, while light in colour, held almost as much dominance as Zayn’s. It was like I was merely an amusement to him. </p>
<p>“It was nice meeting you too.” </p>
<p>He pauses, lips upturned into a smirk. </p>
<p>“I’m sure this won’t be the last time you and I run into each other. I think the boss likes you.” He motions his head toward Zayn who sat at a barstool and I couldn’t help but notice that the men who were sitting down before were collecting their things to leave as Louis and Harry were. </p>
<p>“You think?” I sigh, almost worriedly and yet, my insides danced. </p>
<p>“Depends if I see you anytime soon.” His eyes graze me from my beige chinos to my hair. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” I furrow my brows. “Maybe.” </p>
<p>“Too bad about your boyfriend.” Harry perks up and I bite my lip. “He had a nice car.” </p>
<p>“Yeah a nice car and super tight pants.” Louis snorts in the younger boy’s direction. “Doesn’t compete with my bike.” </p>
<p>“I never said it did.” The latter hits back with an almost glare. I gulp awkwardly between them.</p>
<p>“Bye, Blondie.” Louis murmurs, motioning Harry who simply smiles at me toward the door. </p>
<p>It seemed as though in that small conversation between Louis and I, everyone had cleared the bar – even the bartender had hiked up a backpack over one shoulder, tapped Zayn on the back and hastily left out the door. I say nothing, watching as the gang leader stalks toward it and turns the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’ </p>
<p>“I’m afraid we don’t have any strawberry wine.” Zayn huffs, walking himself behind the bar – back facing toward me. I raise an eyebrow. We were truly alone and this time, our gathering lacked the cool air and unwavering abyss of an empty street from the other night. “I can make you something sweet, however.” </p>
<p>I bit my lip, walking slowly toward him so that only a piece of wooden infrastructure that I’m sure housed many spirits and liquors separated us.</p>
<p>My silence was all that was needed – considering Zayn had clearly conjured a drink in mind for me anyways as he was busy grabbing a few bottles of liquids I wasn’t too familiar with. </p>
<p>“So… you’re a bar owner?” I huff, tilting my head to the side as he glances up at me momentarily – looking as though he was cutting a slice of lemon. </p>
<p>“Among other things.” His answer was coy. He squeezes the juice of the slice into a glass filled with ice and reaches for another bottle. </p>
<p>“I didn’t pick you as the small business type.” I pop, eyes meeting what little chest he was showing that was teased through three buttons undone at the top of his shirt. I wanted to see the tattoos hidden there. </p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” His eyes meet mine again as a pink liquid is poured into the glass. “What did you think I did then?” </p>
<p>I stay silent, biting my lip. Slowly, he places the other lemon wedge he had left aside on a cutting board into the glass and presents it to me. </p>
<p>The drink was, as pretty as I could imagine, and looked utterly delicious. But I couldn’t give him that satisfaction… not yet. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure. You never mentioned it the other night.” I say slowly as he throws a cloth of his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Raspberry bitters – you’ll like it.” He says pointing toward the drink as he had probably assumed by now that I already knew his occupation. </p>
<p>I take a sip and I’m pleasantly surprised. While not as bitter as the strawberry wine, it wasn’t quite as sweet as it either. It seemed the perfect balance and I immediately went in for seconds. </p>
<p>“Wow… That’s really nice.” I compliment, wiping my top lip with the back of my hand. His eyes hadn’t left me since I had picked the glass up and I wanted to relish in his intense glare. “Has bartending always been your passion?” </p>
<p>He smirks at me, tilting his head to the side. </p>
<p>“Among other things.” </p>
<p>I knew we were both on the same page. I knew what he did… he knew I knew… neither of us were going to give in first. </p>
<p>“Hm…” I nod about. “What else are you passionate about?” </p>
<p>“Motorcycles,” he says as innocently as ever. “You got to have a ride on mine – it’s quite nice, don’t you think?” </p>
<p>“Oh yes.” I take another sip of the drink.</p>
<p>“I like doing up cars… I liked building this business for myself. I also like beautiful looking people.” He smirks toward me, slowly walking himself around the bar. “I like designing tattoos and I love a bottle of aged whiskey.” </p>
<p>As he inches closer to me, throwing the cloth around his shoulder behind the bar, I couldn’t help but bite my lip. </p>
<p>“I like people who challenge me.” I felt my breath hitch as he edged so much closer – and still so far away that I couldn’t quite reach forward and grasp him. “And I like power.” </p>
<p>At this point he was right in front of my lap, looking down at me so intently and yet I felt no intimidation… I felt the same intimacy he had radiated since the second I laid eyes on him. I wanted to taste the cigarettes I knew he savored and properly inhale the intoxicating cologne I smelt the other night. </p>
<p>“You know… I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it once more to you, Zayn.” I murmur, feeling the closeness between us. </p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow respectively, placing his hand on my thigh. </p>
<p>“I’m not scared of you.” It was simple and while his gaze was so clearly transfixed on that of my lips, I brought my drink to my mouth once more. </p>
<p>“And I never want you to be.” He doesn’t remove his eyes.</p>
<p>As much as I wanted to kiss him… and taste him… and feel him, I instead lean forward and place a hand on his chest – forcing his gaze to enter mine. </p>
<p>“But I need to get to know you.” I murmur, seeing as he wanted to lean in just as bad I did. </p>
<p>“I just told you things about me Blondie.” He replies, squeezing my thigh. </p>
<p>“I think you’re missing out on some important parts.” I tick, tilting my head to the side. “You own a bar… I get that. But I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” </p>
<p>He smirks in response and leans closer. </p>
<p>“You’re a smart boy.” He whispers. “You know who I am.” </p>
<p>“Maybe I do.” I huff. “But what I’ve read might not be the case. I don’t believe everything I hear and read, Zayn.” </p>
<p>He blinks a couple of times and pulls away. </p>
<p>“And what don’t you believe?” </p>
<p>“That you’re as bad as they say.” I whisper back. “Selfish… yes but perhaps your actions have reason.” </p>
<p>“Quite the statement, Blondie.” He responds. “You don’t think I’m the big bad guy they report about every Monday night?” </p>
<p>“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t know your reasons and maybe that is a conversation for another day. But I’m not here to judge. I’m not scared of you.” </p>
<p>He bites his lip, removing his hand my thigh and placing it on the side of my neck instead. I leant into his touch. </p>
<p>“You’re…” He didn’t even need to finish his sentence. I smile up at him, feeling utterly warm in his presence. </p>
<p>In truth, I hardly knew anything about him besides the odd detail I read about in the articles he was featured in and he hardly knew a thing about me. It was… peculiar. I don’t think I had ever felt so comfortable with another human in my entire life, and here I sat, leaning into the embrace of a man I had met a measly twice and yet, I felt more of the same unwavering connection I had been chasing since our first encounter. </p>
<p>“I won’t ask about it.” I say quietly, motioning toward the door with ‘The Damned’ sprawled out upon it. “I know just enough… That’s all I care about.” </p>
<p>He pauses and scoffs lightly, shaking his head. It seemed as though he hadn’t heard that before – if his reaction was anything to go by. </p>
<p>“Tell me again,” he begins, “about the guy you came here with tonight.” </p>
<p>“Zayn-”</p>
<p>“Tell me.” I couldn’t see any jealousy in his eyes, simply curiosity. I sighed in defeat and knew I had to respond. </p>
<p>“He works for my father.” I shrug. “My whole life my parents have been trying to set me up. I came out… and they basically set me up with him. But he’s nice – really nice.” </p>
<p>He chews on his lip, this concept was undoubtedly unfamiliar to him. </p>
<p>“You’re going to date a guy your parents want you to?” </p>
<p>“I mean, everyone wants to date someone their parents want them to.” I huff truthfully, earning the same confused glare. </p>
<p>“No… none of that seems normal.” He murmurs about. “I don’t like it.” </p>
<p>“Well, that’s my life.” I hit back – hardly laced with any malice whatsoever. I just needed him to understand. “It’s been mapped out… and now I’m at the age where I have to go through with it.” </p>
<p>“Let me guess – they’ve planned your career too?” </p>
<p>“Mm-hmm.” I hum. “Hopefully, I’ll be attending law-school shortly.” </p>
<p>He narrows his gaze. </p>
<p>“Is that what you want to do?” </p>
<p>“What else would I do?” I say expectantly. </p>
<p>“Something you’re passionate about?” He says it as though it were a question. “I don’t like this, Niall.” </p>
<p>“Well, that’s just how it is.” I sigh, glancing at our hands together. “This is your life… I’m just telling you mine.”</p>
<p>He bites his lip and looks down also – I’m guessing he gaged the fact I didn’t want to discuss it any further. I’d rather just enjoy the time spent in his company… in his arms. </p>
<p>“Did he kiss you?” He mutters, eyes boring into mine once more. </p>
<p>“No… The only person who has done that is you.” I pathetically smile, remembering every precious moment of it. </p>
<p>He reaches forward and places a hand underneath each of my arms and in an instant, felt him pull me up so I was seated on the bar. My breath hitched at the swiftness and the ease in which he touched me. </p>
<p>I spread my legs and allow him to inch closer toward me – almost as though our chests were touching. </p>
<p>“I don’t want him kissing you.” He whispers, placing a hand on the side of my neck once more. “I don’t want anyone doing that.” </p>
<p>I don’t reply and simply lick my lips in anticipation of what I have been waiting to come. </p>
<p>“I want you all to myself, Blondie.” He huffs, lips brushing against mine and I felt the hairs on my arm stand up. “Call me selfish… call me every name in the book – only I’m allowed to kiss you.” </p>
<p>And I found myself enveloped in a passionate embrace, his lips reconnected with mine and I knew what budding feelings I felt for this gang leader, I knew everything and nothing about, were dangerously increasing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I didn’t know what to think of this. For one, I had never felt this type of feeling before. The first night I had met Zayn – there were too many factors and revelations to take into account. The man in front of me, soaring through the darkness on his motorcycle did something else. </p><p>He was driving me crazy. I wanted to push him away and run so fast to the life I have known my entire life. I wanted to apologize to James and compensate with studying for self-punishment. If examining the news for a good week meant anything, I had at least gathered that this was a man way out of the league in which I exist. I didn’t know his weaknesses… motives… whether or not he did his part as a gang leader for contempt and societal takeover. </p><p>But as I held him and leant my head against his back, I wanted to never let go. I wanted to sit with him and just talk about what drives him and let him know about my day. I knew he was so far beyond the realm of focusing on my career and family like James, that in each form of verbal contact we partook in, I heard genuine interest in my person and passion. </p><p>It was utterly conflicting and an amalgamation of desire and confusion. A part of me thought it to be exciting – the other, a complete mistake. </p><p>I need not forget; I am not this guy. I’ve never even had a detention before and here I am, smitten by a man who has been accused of almost everything. I craved safety and the ability to stick to the status quo that has been instilled in me since birth. </p><p>But there was something about the way he kissed me… </p><p>When we pulled up to my dormitories after an overtly stressful night, I unclicked Zayn’s helmet and placed it on my lap as he got up from the seat and stood to his feet. I had to stop myself from ogling at his body so tightly held in by a black button up shirt. He had given me his jacket to wear on the way home – despite the fact I was already covered in denim. He said it had something to do with safety. </p><p>“This is… familiar.” He glances up at the dorm-rooms and brings that pretty little smirk to his lips once more. </p><p>“This is home.” I chuckle, hopping off the vehicle with a sense of relief overcoming me. Unlike the last time he had dropped me off here, I had no concern of where I stood in his eyes. I think I knew. </p><p>He pockets his keys and bites his lip, eyes returning to the ground. </p><p>“Thanks for the lift – you didn’t have to come all the way out here.” I pocket my hands in his jacket, just wanting to feel it once more before I had to give it back. </p><p>“Yeah well, I’d drive anywhere to make sure that weak little boy didn’t have to drive you home.” The thought of James and I was so utterly amusing to the gang leader and while I did take offence of the way he spoke about someone I genuinely liked, the jealousy and possessiveness he exuded was so attractive. </p><p>“Zayn… you can’t keep saying that.” As I shake my head, he simply pulls me closer, arms wrapping around my neck. </p><p>“I owe him for bringing you back to me.” He mutters down, leaning forward to peck my forehead. </p><p>“Actually, it was my idea to come downtown… whether I saw you or not.” </p><p>“So I owe him nothing – that works too.” He winks and I let a hearty chuckle into his chest as I lean my head into it. </p><p>“You better stop.” I huff, pulling away. </p><p>It was rather silent between us and I knew it would be a game of chicken to see who said goodbye first. I certainly didn’t want to do the honors. I was so warm in his arms and his embrace felt right. After I left him the first night, I simply craved to return here. This time, with much better clarity, I knew my withdrawals would be way worse. </p><p>“I’m happy I got to see you, Blondie.” He breathes, holding me that little bit tighter. “I’ve been thinking ‘bout you every day.”  </p><p>I sigh, glancing up to face those big dark eyes. </p><p>“Me too.” I reply. “I guess I walked into the right place tonight.” </p><p>“Right place, yeah.” He nods about. “Just with the wrong guy.” </p><p>I chuckle in response, noticing the return of that smug grin. I didn’t want to be the one to bring up future plans with the bikie. I had done so last time in asking for his phone number and I was too scared I’d meet the same fate. If he wanted to continue to see me… that was his prerogative and I’d just have to accept whatever that answer was. </p><p>“Come here,” he whispers, and I must have been so deep in thought that I missed his eyes watching my lips so intently. It was almost second nature to kiss and be held by him that when our mouths met, it was if it were choreographed. </p><p>“I’ll be thinking ‘bout you, Blondie.” He says against my lips and I squeeze my eyes tightly – a part of me unsatisfied. I wanted more than that – perhaps I was being selfish. </p><p>“Before I forget.” I shake my head and pull away from him. “You’re going to need your jacket.” </p><p>“Yeah I will need it – but let me take a proper look at you.” He holds onto my arm, raking his eyes all over me. “You’ll give me something to dream about.” </p><p>“I look silly.” I snort, removing it sleeve-by-sleeve and pressing it into his chest. “I think I’m more of a jeans and a t-shirt kind of guy anyway.” </p><p>“I like the way you look in my clothes.” His eyes narrow and my stomach erupts as though it were a nest of hummingbirds. </p><p>I fail to a stupidly happy sigh and take one more look into those deep dark eyes before I lean in and capture him in a small kiss. I wanted to just scream ‘I want to see you again’ but I had already tried that before and it led me nowhere. The ball was in his court – a court that I had no idea if I even existed in it. </p><p>“Goodnight, Zayn.” I whisper as I take a few steps back, taking in the entire view of him. He had thrown his jacket on and leant an arm up against his motorcycle. This was all I needed to feel content. I just needed to see him, and all of the uncertainty seemed to vanish. </p><p>“Goodnight, Blondie.” He bites his lip and holds a hand up to wave at me. I nod at the man and while I could stop and stare at him all night, I had to let it go and return to my room. Zayn was… everything to me and yet his presence was so utterly insignificant. </p><p>I glance at my watch as I hurry up the stairs to the second floor where my room would be situated and gulp at the time being 1AM. Gosh… Whenever we study love stories in English Literature, I turn my nose at the way they drop everything just for the affections of another person. </p><p>I hope that I wasn’t turning into that. </p><p>As I unlock the door, I notice that Liam was still up – if the light beneath the slit at the bottom of the doorway meant anything. I had a lot of explaining to do. </p><p>“I’m home late, I know.” I mutter, entering and eventually shutting the door behind me. Liam was up sitting at his desk with his grey matching flannelette pajamas on. He was boundlessly scrolling on his laptop before he glanced up, looking rather startled. </p><p>“How was your date?” He beams. “Not that I’d know… but getting home this late must mean it went well.” </p><p>I sigh, ripping my denim jacket off and placing it atop my desk chair. I didn’t even know where to begin. </p><p>Liam is my absolute best friend in the world. Always has been and always will be. It wasn’t fair to hold onto this for too long. </p><p>“I- Um…” I trail off, about to give him a long-convoluted story about Zayn, how we met, what he does and how if this got back to my parents I would have to move countries, until I’m interrupted by a buzz in my pocket. </p><p>‘Slipped your number into my phone when you weren’t looking. I’ll be seeing you soon, Blondie. X’ </p><p>Before I can even process all of the things I was feeling toward this, the roar of an engine startles me. The three times I had been on a motorcycle I knew it was never that loud when it started – Zayn was sending a message and I heard him. Loud and clear. </p><p>I don’t think this smile would be able to be wiped off my face. </p><p>“What kind of crazy is making that sort of noise?” Liam scoffs, glancing toward the window and I chew my lip. I think I was at a point where I needed to stop hiding and tell the Liam how I felt – no matter the outcome. </p><p>The gang leader instilled such a happiness inside of me and just the fact he wanted to see me again – without me asking this time – meant more than I think he’d ever know. </p><p>“Liam.” I say, with what I’m sure was a very large and silly grin still planted on my face. He turns to face me, eyebrows furrowed together – I’m sure, as confused as I’d imagine. “I had just… the best time.” </p><p>He can only smile in response. </p><p>“I’m so happy for you.” He hits back and I just felt this happiness soar. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this smiley since… well, ever.” </p><p>“He just makes me feel this way, I guess.” I huff, holding my phone close to my chest. “I’m pretty sure he must think I’m just swooning over him… but Liam – you don’t get it! He’s so swoon-worthy.” </p><p>He chuckles once more, shutting his laptop and leaning his head on his hand. </p><p>“This is exactly what you’ve needed.” His eyes are warm and don’t seem to leave mine. “You’ve done enough studying and avoided a social life for 18 years now – it’s about time you met someone.” </p><p>“I think I’ve realised this as well.” I laugh, glancing over at the pile of books by my desk. “It’s finally given me something to think about.” </p><p>“Who are his parents?” He tilts his head to the side. “He looks like he’s from a good family – perhaps I know him.” </p><p>I felt the pit of my stomach deepen at these words – the fact that I left the dorm with James, not Zayn, completely slipped my mind. Oh gosh, I had to explain everything to Liam. I guess the message from Zayn just blindsided me. </p><p>“And he does dress nice…” Liam was on another one of his tangents when he had recognized somebody from high society. I squeezed my eyes shut – remembering that my best friend, like my parents, was utterly caught up in that type of world. “What does he do for work?” </p><p>“Um…” I murmur. “How do I say this?” </p><p>“Say what?” </p><p>“James – he’s a really nice guy.” Not the best start, but at this point I had to roll with it. “I met him because he works for my dad.” </p><p>He seemed to sense the shift in my tone – which only deepened his confusion. </p><p>“And… well, he’s a really nice guy.” Stop repeating yourself, stupid. “I just think he’s fantastic.” </p><p>Liam only squinted his eyes – trying to do the working out in his head. </p><p>“But, that’s not who I was just with.” I felt so ashamed saying this – I went 18 years without a single person showing any sort of interest in me and here I am, spending a night with two separate guys. </p><p>“But that was James I met tonight, right?” He says slowly. </p><p>“Yes – that was James.” I murmur. “We went to dinner and then we went downtown to get a drink-”</p><p>“He took you downtown?” He practically snorts. “What is downtown?” </p><p>“Just this… bar. But that’s beside the point.” I huff. “Remember how I told you about that guy I met? The one who-”</p><p>“Oh, the asshole who didn’t want to take anything further or whatever?” </p><p>“Yeah – that one.” I chuckle, thinking back to what jarring feelings I had toward Zayn in that moment. “I ended up bumping into him and I guess James went home.” </p><p>He raises an eyebrow at what I’m sure sounded like a wild out-of-character story. </p><p>“James is great.” I must sound like a broken record. “But the way I am with this other guy – he just makes me so happy.” </p><p>“Well… I’m still happy for you.” He says, as though it were obvious. “Tell me more.” </p><p>“Really?” I hum. “It feels rather taboo to have seen two guys in a night – but I haven’t met anyone like him before – he’s amazing.” </p><p>“Do I know him?” Liam’s eyes were bright and rather optimistic. </p><p>“Perhaps indirectly.” I chuckle fondly, Zayn’s record coming into my mind. “He’s not from high society – but that doesn’t matter.” </p><p>He pauses and tilts his head to the side. </p><p>“He actually owns a bar – it’s a real nice place. We should go and have a look this weekend if you want. He makes this really nice raspberry cocktail that-”</p><p>“Niall,” he huffs, cutting me off. “What on earth are you talking about?” </p><p>I clear my throat – quickly realizing I needed to better articulate the way I was explaining this to my best friend. </p><p>“Oh right, sorry.” I chuckle. “I guess I’m still so excited about things. I think you’d like him if I were to be honest – he’s rather… stoic but is very kind once you get talking with him.” </p><p>Liam continues to stare – perhaps reminding me that I was still all over the place in my anecdote. </p><p>“And all that… drama about him not wanting to go any further is solved, I think.” I beam, holding up my phone. “He has my number now – I guess I’ll be able to see him again.” </p><p>“Niall…” </p><p>“Oh yes!” I hastily realize just how vague I was being before I quickly snatch up Liam’s laptop, opening the lid and heading toward an internet browser. “I have a picture of him – you can finally get why I’m gay now. He’s super attractive.” </p><p>I ignore the silence at my joke and type in an article I think I had revisited around 10 times already – which explains how I knew exactly what to type in. </p><p> ‘Gang suspect identified in recent hit and run attack let off…’ </p><p>Hi, Louis – I chuckle internally, quickly scrolling past his mugshot and down to the bottom of the page where Zayn’s existed. Perhaps it was jarring that this was the only image I had to prove his existence, but I didn’t care. He had already shown his character to me in many ways, that I knew my best friend would be able to see passed it too – eventually. </p><p>“This is him.” I smile, turning the laptop around. “He’s been arrested before… but like, I don’t think he’s been to jail.” </p><p>Again, silence. </p><p>“But it isn’t like that Liam.” I huff, shaking my head. “He’s more than this – I’m not caught up in what the news say or what he does. He has proven twice that he can make me very happy.” </p><p>“This is that gang from the news…” He mutters, the first words he has really said about Zayn. </p><p>“Yeah – the Damnation.” I nod. “He’s a part of them.” </p><p>He looks back up to me as though I had two heads and suddenly the insecurity kicked in. I am such a fool for even believing that it was a good idea to go into detail about Zayn… and oh gosh, to this extent. I’m a grade A idiot and Liam knew it. </p><p>My feelings had gotten too far in the way for normalcy to even take over. </p><p>“Have you gone mad?” He scoffs, shutting the laptop lid and glaring at me. “What the hell are you doing with someone from a gang?” </p><p>Hearing it out loud… sounded rather odd. But to me, he was Zayn – not what the news reports him to be. </p><p>“And he’s from downtown!” He practically exclaims. “Are you crazy?” </p><p>“But Liam he’s a great guy.” I shake my head, trying to shut down the understandable concerns he possessed. “He’s very respectful and a true gentleman, if anything.” </p><p>“I don’t care if he found a cure for cancer – all I read about in the news is that gang.” He huffs. “I’ve heard about the hit and runs, robberies, violence – are you even hearing this?” </p><p>“Of course, I’m hearing this.” I huff. “I know it sounds a bit ridiculous-”</p><p>“A bit?” He scoffs. “This is… craziness Niall.” </p><p>“But-”</p><p>“You know you’re my best friend and I’ll always have your back… but this is incomprehensible.” </p><p>“I like him. He is not what the news say-”</p><p>“How can you be this naïve?” He murmurs. “The only picture you have of him is a mugshot.” </p><p>“But-”</p><p>“And he looks… crazy.” He exclaims, reopening the laptop and glaring at the image of the man I had been thinking about for so long. “The tattoos… the fact he has literal blood on his hands in this picture… what on earth are you thinking?” </p><p>“I’m thinking that I like him.” I didn’t mean to snap at him or even raise my voice for that matter. “I don’t care what he’s done – he makes me feel special.” </p><p>“You can say that after just seeing him twice?” He scoffs. “You’re the smartest person I know and I’m struggling at the fact you haven’t seen the stupidity in this.” </p><p>“Liam – you haven’t even met him-”</p><p>He doesn’t reply, simply turns the laptop toward me once more and my eyes are met with Zayn’s, cold and hard in his mugshot. </p><p>“Is this some way to get back at your parents or something?” I almost flinch at the fact he brought them up. They could never know about this – I couldn’t even imagine the punishment. </p><p>“No! Of course not.” </p><p>“What would they think if you brought this guy home with you?” He chuckles bitterly. “I think your mum would literally die – in fact, I think my mum would die too.” </p><p>“I-I’m not going to bring him home to them.” </p><p>“Then what are you doing with him?” He says aloud. “Is this just to make up for lost time?” </p><p>“No – what has gotten into you Liam?” I scoff. “Since when do you dictate what I do?” </p><p>“I’m not trying to dictate anything, but this is singlehandedly the stupidest thing you’ve ever told me.” He huffs out. </p><p>“I am done with this conversation.” I grunt, stalking my way to the bathroom. “I thought you would be happy for me.” </p><p>“I am happy that you’re happy, Niall.” He narrows his eyes. “But you have to see that this is just… not good.” </p><p>“I don’t need your permission.” I shut the bathroom door and lock it. As it is closed, I huff against it. Somehow, every single bit of euphoria I thought would last, flew away with any hope of seeing Zayn again. I didn’t know if Liam – or James for the matter – would tell my parents. I couldn’t afford this, not with exams coming up. </p><p>Sitting myself on the toilet, I had to clench and unclench my fists in hope to calm the sadness and anger down. Liam and I had very few fights – mostly about characters in movies and videogames… but this was different. It was as if my father and mother had possessed him and he was giving me a small peak into what was to come if this information saw the light of the high society. </p><p>While I could sit here and hang my head – all that came to mind were Zayn’s eyes and the way he kissed me tonight. </p><p>It sounded ludicrous… I understood Liam to that degree, but my feelings were valid and I had to grasp ahold of this before it slipped through my fingers. </p><p>I pull my phone out of my pocket and scan over the words he had messaged once more. Through glassy eyes, I still managed a pathetic smile at them. </p><p>‘How did you get my phone without me knowing?’ </p><p>Content with the message, I place my phone on the basin – not really expecting an answer, he could be in bed… or busy with gang stuff. I’m not sure what he did with his spare time, I wanted another day where I could sit and properly get to know every single detail. </p><p>A buzz – my stomach flutters. </p><p>‘You’re smart. You’ve read what I’m capable of.’ </p><p>I snort at such a response – he was so cocky. </p><p>‘I guess I can’t complain. I like talking to you.’ </p><p>‘I like talking to you too Blondie. Thought about you the whole way home.’ </p><p>My smile returns, even if weak and small. </p><p>‘I’m thinking about you too.’ </p><p>My eyes maintain the stare at the screen for a little while longer – I wasn’t sure whether he had forgotten to message me back, or if he had fallen asleep. I guess I had to take this small form of communication as precious. Zayn didn’t strike me as the texting type. </p><p>‘Do you have school tomorrow?’ </p><p>I chew my lip at such a question. While the answer was a hard ‘yes,’ a part of me answered ‘no.’ The day would consist of me following Liam around to every class as he lectured me about Zayn and make me feel as I am feeling right now; very, very small. I was the top of my class – I’ve studied my behind off to get where I am, I can afford one day off. </p><p>The clarity I needed started to form. </p><p>‘No. I have the day off.’ </p><p>Thankfully, Zayn couldn’t detect my lies over text like he did in person.</p><p>‘I’ll pick you up at 10.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This felt… illegal. </p>
<p>For one, despite being well above the age that mandated school participation, I was scared that a police officer would see me on the streets and ask why I was skipping. I know, I know… it’s ridiculous but my parents would kill me. </p>
<p>Oh gosh… What if the school calls up my parents regarding my absence? What if Liam blabs with his big mouth to them that I didn’t turn up to study hall? What if James calls me to talk about last night? What if it is already too late and Liam, James, Mum and Dad had called the police on me for associating with the leader of the Damnation and skipping school? What if-</p>
<p>“Blondie.” I was snapped from venomous thoughts. His brown eyes felt warm and if it wasn’t for the helmet covering about 60% of my face, I’d be an example of a blushing mess. “You coming or what?” </p>
<p>I glanced back up at the bar I had been in the previous night. I didn’t know how to feel about this. Last night we shared such privacy and were allowed to wallow in our own little bubble, but the smattering of motorcycles parked out the front alongside Zayn’s were an indication that we were not going be enveloped in the same sort of discretion.</p>
<p>Here I was, about to be put on display in front of an infamous bikie gang I had only heard about on the news. </p>
<p>“Of course.” It was a whisper and I take the helmet off, scuff up my hair and follow Zayn inside. </p>
<p>Unlike last night, the light came naturally through the glass and not from any neon signage that seemed to be scattered around the venue. There were men everywhere – either leather, denim or sweat-shirt clad. I took in the room. </p>
<p>The same bartender from the previous night was leant against the pool table swigging at a beer, a few scantily clad women in a booth with another two men with jackets to boot, Louis Tomlinson was leant against the bar, sunglasses on his forehead and gold rings glimmering on each of his fingers. The younger boy – Harry is his name – was sitting toward by himself with a full bottle of who-knows-what as he watches the older of the two chat with some other guy. There were about five other men all scattered about and as the door hit my behind all eyes snapped up. </p>
<p>I should’ve just gone to school. </p>
<p>“Here we go,” I hear Louis snort as he ricochets himself off the bar and toward us with that smug persona I had already became accustomed too. Zayn slides his hand down my bare arm and reaches for my hand. It helped… but gosh I hated all of the eyes on me. </p>
<p>“You’ve got a lotta’ nerve coming here, Blondie.” His torso was tightly clad with a grey t-shirt tucked into black pants. He seemed to love wearing gold jewelry. While Zayn always had on a silver chain, Louis seemed so decorated in comparison. “I knew I’d see you again.” </p>
<p>“I guess I just… like it here.” I stifle out politely, not knowing where to look but to my feet. </p>
<p>The tattooed man above me slips his hand from mine and around my shoulder. I lean into him… I was so comfortable in his arms. </p>
<p>“Look at you Malik.” Louis shakes his head. “This is the first face I’ve seen from the upper side of anywhere you’ve brought in here.” </p>
<p>Zayn rolls his eyes and I look to the ground wondering how often he does this and with who. I really liked him. As little as I had known him; I’ve really developed… something for this man. </p>
<p>“Get Styles to bring us a drink each, we’ll be in the back.” The gang leader huffs to the criminal I had read about in the news and tightens his arm around me. </p>
<p>“You gotta’ stop ordering him around like that.” Louis’ eyes, while still light and breezy as though this were a regular conversation, held such a dark pointedness. He seemed very close to the younger man sitting by himself at the bar. </p>
<p>“He’s an apprentice. I can do what I like.” </p>
<p>“I’ll get him to do it in a minute.” He sighs. “I got some things about Declan I got to cover first.” </p>
<p>The man above me grunts almost and lets me go, allowing me to embrace the outer chatter going on around the rest of the bar. The lack of his touch forced me to reconcile with this strange reality I was living in which I had skipped school to hang out in a bikie bar. </p>
<p>“What does he want?” </p>
<p>“Something about that new bloke on his crew.” </p>
<p>“The one who…”</p>
<p>“Yeah that prick who pick-pocketed Styles.” Louis laughs and glances behind him to the boy clad in a black hoodie. </p>
<p>“Okay.” Zayn shakes his head and pinches his nose with two fingers and glances down at me. </p>
<p>While I knew my position as simply a plus-one and a mere observer while awaiting the gang leader’s attention, I had to respect he had business to attend to. My father my whole life had brushed me off to deal with clients and whatever pushed for an upgraded car or TV for the family, and Zayn seemed the same. Although, this is the first time where I’ve had someone attend to a pick-pocketing incident. </p>
<p>“I’m going to grab a drink.” I let out a small smile, leaving him to handle it. </p>
<p>“Give me five minutes – we’ll head somewhere after, okay?” </p>
<p>“Okay.” I nod and as Louis smirks at me one more time before he winks at the man I had been accompanied by and I watch the two walk off toward the back where they enter through another door. </p>
<p>Alone. </p>
<p>I stood alone in front of a room of men I had never met in my life and yet I strangely had seen almost every face from the extensive research I had conducted. My eyes all but travelled to the lonesome boy at the bar I had at least spoken to before on the occasion of last night. </p>
<p>He seemed to be the only one I’d be okay with speaking to. </p>
<p>His head hadn’t even raised as I plopped myself on the bar-stool next to him. He was going through something on his phone while a glass of beer sits idly waiting for his attention. </p>
<p>“Hi.” Gosh, I must have sounded like a right fool. I never even had the confidence to approach the popular kids at school due to the assertive way they conducted themselves and this Harry, while seemingly a fish out of water in this rowdy bar, still gave off that I’m-too-cool-for-you-Niall vibe I had never seemed to shake. </p>
<p>He glances up at me and snorts, looking back down at his phone to lock it and pocket it. </p>
<p>“You’re back.” </p>
<p>“I am.” I nod, I guess, this was my attempt at making a friend if my weird and awkward smile I was translating toward him meant anything. </p>
<p>“Malik must like you if you’re back.” </p>
<p>“I guess so.” I chuckle shyly, shaking my head. I knew that Zayn was probably the most experienced player on the field – it seemed to keep being validated by Louis and Harry. </p>
<p>“What do you want from him anyway?” He huffs, dropping that playful smirk and purses his lips. He seemed so youthful and different from everyone here in the bar. “Weren’t you just here with that guy with the nice car?” </p>
<p>I clear my throat. </p>
<p>“I- Ah…” </p>
<p>“I’m not judging you or anything.” He chuckles. “But I think you’re a little bit stupid.” </p>
<p>Okay… That’s the first time I’ve ever been accused of that. </p>
<p>“Why?” </p>
<p>“You found a real nice guy with pretty pockets and you’ve come back here… but not with him?” As he said every syllable, he seemed to revalidate his argument for himself which probably explains the big grin on his face by the time he said the last word. </p>
<p>“I-I-”</p>
<p>“Don’t get me wrong, we’ve all wanted to say fuck the system before and do something stupid.” He was rambling at this point. “But this is funny to me.” </p>
<p>I didn’t know what to say. I felt like nerdy Niall Horan who was shut down by the most popular guy in school and suddenly every single insecurity I held, veiled my eyes which I’m sure looked terrified. </p>
<p>“Relax.” He snorts once more. “I don’t actually care. Do what you like and do who you like.” </p>
<p>Speak Niall. Stick up for yourself.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you Zayn’s assistant or something?” I barely knew him, what was I even saying? </p>
<p>I really shouldn’t have said that and judging by the way he squinted his eyes and looked me up and down, I gulped. </p>
<p>“No I’m not.” He states so very quickly. “I’m just the guy giving you a warning. You’re not cut out for this.” </p>
<p>“You’re younger than me.” Despite the very visible tattoo on his wrist, I knew he was younger than me – and younger than the legal age to even drink. “How does that make you cut out for this?” </p>
<p>“You’re stupider than me.” He grins back. </p>
<p>“Yeah well, you’re not even allowed to drink.” He laughs in my face at this response. </p>
<p>“I gotta’ give it up to Malik. I thought you were gonna’ be one of those guys with no personality he just uses up cos’ they’ve got those puppy-dog eyes and small little body – but you’re funny.” </p>
<p>I sigh to my lap. Him and Louis loved to mention Zayn and everyone he had been with. I felt defeated. </p>
<p>He seemed to notice this if his smug grin dropping was anything to go by.</p>
<p>“Hey.” He huffs. “It’s not like there’s been hundreds of them.” </p>
<p>I glance up at him quizzically. </p>
<p>“Is that meant to make me feel any better?” </p>
<p>“Well you know what I mean. Zayn is just… He likes being with people.” </p>
<p>“Doesn’t quite make me feel better when I’ve never even… kissed someone before him.” I grunt to myself. </p>
<p>“Oh – that’s new.” He breathes, shaking his head before he takes a sip of his beer. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.” </p>
<p>“I can’t pretend you didn’t say anything.” I huff. </p>
<p>He glances down to his bottle, seemingly regretful in his words and I look around the bar once more. I felt so uncomfortable here. I knew I didn’t belong. I knew that Zayn’s interests in me were askew and a temporary interest for him. I knew that even the youngest guy I could possibly relate to in this place hated me. I knew I should’ve just gone to school today, listened to Liam and walked out of that bar with James last night. </p>
<p>Perhaps I am stupid. </p>
<p>Who would’ve thought? </p>
<p>“Look,” he huffs, turning to face me properly this time. “I can tell you’re anxious here and Tomlinson told me that you’re from an uptown kid who has never even been in a bar before. Malik is a lot of things and has been with a lot of people. He’s just a guy who hates being lonely.” </p>
<p>I bite my lip. </p>
<p>“But you’re the first person I’ve ever heard about from him. Zayn never talks about who he dates and keeps it so bloody private.” He gets out quickly, as though it were a secret. “When I saw you last night I knew exactly who you were – not just cos’ you dress like a nerd but cos’ he had described your eyes, hair, height in such specific detail – fuck, if you hadn’t come in last night I was almost sure he was about to send me to that damn private school to come and fetch you for him.” </p>
<p>“Really?” </p>
<p>“Yes, really.” He scoffs. “For a week it’s been Blondie this… Blondie that. He must really want to get in your pants.” </p>
<p>I chuckle to myself. Harry had this weird way of complimenting me and immediately taking it back with something else. It was entertaining and made me begin to understand just who he was. </p>
<p>“I guess I feel a bit better.” I shake my head. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before. I’ve never been with anyone-”</p>
<p>“Really?” He snorts jokingly, grazing me up and down. “That’s crazy!” </p>
<p>“Hey…” </p>
<p>“Cut me some slack.” He holds a hand against his heart. “You’re probably the first virgin I’ve ever seen walk in here.” </p>
<p>I glare at him.</p>
<p>“Anyway,” he winked as I carried on. “I just want to make sure I’m making correct decisions here. I really… I care for him.” </p>
<p>“Give Malik a go.” He sighs longingly. “He likes you. I didn’t think he was capable of liking anyone before.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” I clear my throat, glancing behind him to see Louis and Zayn emerge from the back room. “I’ll see.” </p>
<p>“What’s going on here?” Louis’ voice protrudes the conversation as he snakes an arm around Harry’s shoulder and leans on the boy, looking between us smugly. “What has Styles told you?” </p>
<p>Harry glances between Zayn – who had arrived at the conversation, face still and unreadable, – and me seemingly nervously. From every interaction I have seen between the gang leader and this young apprentice I knew that he was at the lowest level of the food chain and I wasn’t in a place to tarnish his name. </p>
<p>“Only good things.” I smile lightly toward Louis who flickers his eyes down the younger boy who watches me… I guess thankfully. At least, that’s how I took it. </p>
<p>“Ready to go, Blondie?” I saw him a little bit differently this time. It warmed my heart how much he spoke of me to members of his gang albeit my apprehensive concerns Harry had instilled in me, I still felt so curious about what was to come. </p>
<p>“Of course.” I smile politely at him – whether that was to put on a confident face for Harry and Louis who separately and together had made me feel so incredibly nervous and insecure. </p>
<p>“Handle it Tomlinson.” Zayn continues on as I hop off the bar stool, feeling the gang leader automatically hold me by my waist. I had missed his touch. “I’ll be on call – see you both tonight.” </p>
<p>“Got it boss.” He grins toward the man before winking at me. “Bye Blondie.” </p>
<p>“Bye.” I let out a small smile at the man and press myself into Zayn once more, being sure to glance at Harry with knowing eyes before making my exit with their superior and out to the main street of downtown Bradford. </p>
<p>“What did he tell you?” Is the first thing Zayn sighs, halfway dropping that assertive side I had seen him be in front of his friends and instead returning to the Zayn who had picked me up from school and made me feel comfortable. </p>
<p>“As I said, only good things.” I hold my hands behind me back, a sweet smile to my lips and if the smirk and tilt of his head meant anything – this answer pleased him. </p>
<p>“You’ve gotten good at lying.” I chuckled at this and he leans closer to my face. “But I can still read you.” </p>
<p>He lays a small kiss to my lips and I tasted the cigarette I’m sure he had just smoked in the back room with Louis. I wanted it to go further… deeper, but I knew it wasn’t the time. </p>
<p>“You’re mean, you know?” It was almost a pout I executed before pulling away from him. Goddamn, I was putty in this man’s tattooed hands. </p>
<p>“Come on, let’s go somewhere else before they start tellin’ you things I don’t want you to hear.” It was playful and he pulls me toward his bike. I frowned at the single helmet on the seat. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you wear the helmet?” I sigh, feeling guilty that in every ride I had taken with him he made sure I wore it. It was a selfless act – him giving it to me every time – but a part of me felt bad. He needed protecting too. </p>
<p>“I’m the best guy on a bike this side of anywhere.” He rolls those pretty little eyes, hands me the helmet and hops on. “Put the helmet on. You’re the first priority.” </p>
<p>I sigh, retiring to the back of the bike and my arms tighten around his waist. This man was driving me crazy. </p>
<p>And with that, he sped off. You’d think by now I would’ve gotten over the fear of surging speed on this motorcycle but I still squeezed my eyes shut the majority of the ride as though it were the shield that would keep the two of us safe. </p>
<p>I did wonder where we’d end up. Another bar? The same secluded place he had taken me the first night we met? A restaurant? </p>
<p>No… None of those things. I reopened my eyes to crashing waves and an empty cove I had only visited once in my whole life. My mother hated the beaches in Britain… she took us to more tropical types – such as this one in Fiji I had spent my 8th birthday at. </p>
<p>It was quiet here. The overcast day more than assured the lack of people congregated here at this public space and while a pergola existed with a small picnic bench beneath it, I could almost guarantee that we would be the only ones to turn up. </p>
<p>He hastily hops off the bike, faces the water and sucks in a breath. He seemed content and boy did it rub off on me. Perhaps Harry’s words about how Zayn felt about me warmed my insides up immensely and made me want him twenty times the usual amount I did. </p>
<p>I unclip the helmet, place it on the seat and hop up quickly. He grabs my hands and walks us toward the pergola. He sits upon the table of it, feet resting on the seats and I follow in suit. </p>
<p>“I didn’t think we’d be coming here.” I glance down at our mix-matched hands that were linked together and resting on his lap. “I thought you were maybe taking me to another bar you owned or something.” </p>
<p>He snorts and shakes his head. </p>
<p>“I’m not there yet.” His husky voice lets out. “But give me a year or two and I’ll make it happen if that’s what you want.” </p>
<p>I smile at the words and look to our hands once more. They just seemed to fit. We seemed to fit. </p>
<p>“I’ve lied to you again.” I let out, I think subconsciously the guilt was slowly eating me up. </p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“I did have school today.” </p>
<p>He chuckles, biting that bottom lip of his. </p>
<p>“You think I don’t know what?” He lets out. “You’re not very subtle Blondie. You’ve been squirming around since I picked you up this morning.” </p>
<p>“I know… I know… I’ve never skipped anything in my entire life. This is a big step for me and I’m nervous.” I let out, his soft laughter sounded like a symphony. </p>
<p>“Fuck that place.” He shakes his head. “Tomlinson and I skipped every second day – I hated it there.” </p>
<p>It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“You guys went to high school together?” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah.” He nods about, as though it were the most casual thing in the world. “He’s… my brother. We’ve been through it all together.” </p>
<p>That definitely explained the closeness between the two and validated why Harry seemed to cower in Zayn’s presence while Louis comfortably embraced it. </p>
<p>“How did you not get kicked out for skipping that much?” I almost gape. </p>
<p>“They didn’t care.” He snorts. “And if they did, I didn’t care either. We had a nice mutual relationship; school and I.”</p>
<p>“I wish I had that.” I shake my head. “I swear, the exams I have coming up next week I have studied for – probably my entire life.” </p>
<p>“You realise you’ll be fine forever, right?” </p>
<p>I look to my lap, knowing that last night in the bar I had told him about my dad and where I come from – everything I was too embarrassed to even say out loud in front of him. </p>
<p>“It’s not that. My parents have told me my entire life everything depends on my performance.” I mutter. “And I’m good at it. I’m good at school – it’s maybe the only thing I’m good at.” </p>
<p>“The pressure ain’t good.” </p>
<p>“No.” I whisper. “The pressure is the reason I’m all like this.” </p>
<p>“Like what?” He practically scoffs, glancing down at me before directing his eyes toward the seaside. “You’re… just nothing like I’ve ever come across.”</p>
<p>“Like this, Zayn.” I let go of his hand and lean my elbows on my knees. Wow… When did I get so open? Since knowing this man, I have had that many revelations about myself. “You’re… You’re so wonderful and experienced and clearly have a life. I live in my dorm studying for something I very well know I’ll ace – just because I know nothing else.” </p>
<p>I don’t bother looking up at him. </p>
<p>“Did you know that when I came out as gay it felt like a break?” I snort. “It was like… I put my whole life on hold to talk about something other than literary styles and trigonometry.” </p>
<p>In reality, I did see such a pointlessness for it. </p>
<p>“I thought that coming out… I can break away from everything my parents want me to be.” I whisper. “But they still have an idea for me. You know James? It was practically a set-up by them. He just so happens to be someone that isn’t a bad person like the rest of them. Surprisingly.” </p>
<p>He sighs. I rubbed my eyes harshly. Where was this all coming from? </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” It was a mutter this time. I had my eyes to my knees and felt the overwhelming distance between us as a signal to probably shut up. “I guess I’m just stressed out about doing something wrong and skipping school.” </p>
<p>I watch a hand get placed on the left thigh I was staring at. By the right edge of the back of his right hand, a tattoo that read ‘hero’ in a cursive font, a small star before the extension of his ring finger, the letter ‘Y’ and two silver rings stacked atop one another on his middle finger. </p>
<p>“You’re pure, you know?” He huffs, and I watch his squeeze my leg lightly. I could hardly feel it – I was too focused on reading his tattoo over and over again. “I can’t let this shit continue.” </p>
<p>I glance up at him and blink. He genuinely had concern written all over that face – all hardened and apprehensive. </p>
<p>“Tomlinson – he was in a bad place. Got kicked out of home at an early age and came to stay with me. He was in a shit state with the world and leaving to join the gang, probably saved his life.” He lets out and it warmed my heart seeing him speak with such worry about his friend. He already had shown me what a protective guy he was and it was displayed exponentially. </p>
<p>“Are you saying I need to join your gang to get my life back on track?” </p>
<p>He smiled at me, shook his head and leant forward to kiss my lips. </p>
<p>“No.” He chuckles against me. “I want you happy. That won’t bring you any happiness, trust me.” </p>
<p>I place my hand atop his. </p>
<p>“But tying yourself to me will.” </p>
<p>“See that’s what’s the most confusing part of all this.” I huff. “I know hardly anything about you and yet, I’m just, I don’t know. I feel more comfortable being with you than in my own house.”</p>
<p>He bites his lip. </p>
<p>“There’s only one thing that will make you happy, Blondie.” He murmurs. “And it ain’t pleasing your parents.” </p>
<p>“Let me tell you what will make me happy.” I whisper to him, genuinely. “If you let me know a little more. I feel like we’ve only discussed me and I feel weird about that.” </p>
<p>“I told you last night everything about me.” </p>
<p>“You told me about the gang.” I raise an eyebrow. “Actually no, you just admitted to me that you were in a gang. That’s all.” </p>
<p>“And you’re the crazy one who is fine with it.” He chuckles. “You keep talking about how the biggest problem in your life is school and your family but… take a look at yourself. You came searching for me – that’s how much you like me.” </p>
<p>I roll my eyes playfully. </p>
<p>“I guess I liked you last night. Today, I don’t know.” I press a shoulder forward and begin to feel so much better about the entire situation at hand. It had taken my mind off the self-pitying conversation I had begun before. </p>
<p>“What have I done today?” He presses into my thigh and smirks.</p>
<p>“Nothing.” I shake my head. “You’re just so cool and good with your words. Lots of practice, I’ve been told.” </p>
<p>He drops the smirk and chuckles. </p>
<p>“What did Styles tell you?” </p>
<p>“Just that I’m number 341 or something.” I lie jokingly and he rolls his eyes and pulls me closer to him. I don’t drop the façade that I was genuinely concerned about the people he had been with. In all honesty, I was envious of his free-will and self-driven way he had conducted his life. I could never be like that. </p>
<p>Although I did have to admit, I would hate to see it in motion. I liked how we fit together, the way he tasted, his heavenly cologne, how it felt to be in his arms…</p>
<p>Okay, I really hated the idea of somebody else getting to relish in that. </p>
<p>“You jealous, Blondie?” </p>
<p>“No.” I scoff and I cursed my delivery of it as he instantly suspected that I wasn’t being truthful. </p>
<p>“I think you’re jealous.” He whispers, edging closer to me. </p>
<p>“I think you’re jealous.” I hit back, remembering the way he conducted himself with James the previous night. </p>
<p>“I am jealous. I don’t want that loser from last night touching something that’s mine again.” </p>
<p>“Okay. I don’t want to there to be a number 342.” </p>
<p>He smirks. </p>
<p>“Relax. You’re number 36 or something anyway.” </p>
<p>I pull back and hit his knee playfully. </p>
<p>“I need to make sure we’re on the same page, Zayn.” I huff, crossing my arms over. </p>
<p>“I’m on any page you’re on, Blondie.” He seemed to drop the joking nature in which he conducted himself. “Whatever Styles told you, it is what it is. You’re not like anyone I’ve met. You’re different.”</p>
<p>“You hardly know me.” </p>
<p>At this point, I was trying to find a reason to deflect this – it almost felt impossible. I had never felt so affected by someone in my entire life, my rationality flew way out of the window. </p>
<p>“You hardly know me either.” He lets out. “And you feel what I’m feeling.” </p>
<p>“Maybe I do.” </p>
<p>It became serious now. I wanted to translate to him how I felt without saying it, and he seemed to want the opposite. All I knew is that we saw the same things for each other and we both shared a common want. </p>
<p>“I know you do.” His voice, low and raspy. “I want you to be happy.” </p>
<p>“This is crazy.” I whisper. </p>
<p>“I know but I’ll do what I can to make you happy.” </p>
<p>This is the first time anybody had said this to me. All I had heard from my parents and Liam, was success and how at the end of the day, that is all that mattered. And here, a gang leader so far off the tracks I had spent my entire life upon, had encountered me on a few times and yet made me yearn for a life in which I could truly be happy. </p>
<p>Maybe Liam is right; maybe this is stupid, maybe this is me getting back at my parents for the pressures they had laid upon me my entire life, maybe this is going to end in shambles and heart-break. </p>
<p>But I knew something for sure; Zayn was going to make me happy. I don’t think an inch of me could dispute that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My whole life, I haven’t known the pleasures of having something to want. While I never quite did go without as a child, there was never a pestering want for the latest gaming console or toy, new DVD or dress-up costume. I wanted food, water, shelter and somebody there at the end of the day to reassure some sort of human contact. I have never been a wanter. </p><p>But here, my eyes were feasting upon such tense muscles beneath his white t-shirt, a splash of beer spilt on his chest – not so in an annoying, slob-like way, more so in a playful and ravishingly thirsty way. His eyes lit up around his friends, he commanded all power in the room and conversation while still remaining quiet and reserved. He licked his lips almost after every sentence as though to quench his palette for continuous contributions to conversation. </p><p>The way he didn’t even have to say a single word to me. He simply held my thigh beneath the table, often squeezing to let me know he was there and that I was safe – especially safe through the backhanded verbal beatings I often faced laced in conversation from Harry and Louis. </p><p>He stuck up for me. In each encounter we have had, he takes my side and genuinely seemed to care. This all felt so surreal. </p><p>His neck smelt like the deep musky cologne that I felt he used purely for the elation he knew it brought me and his kiss tasted like cigarettes and mint – a very welcome combination. His hands, which often roamed all over me, were rugged and slightly worn with scars and braised knuckles that looked as if they had many stories to tell. </p><p>It had been another two days where I had completely ignored Liam. It was easy in the sense that I just went out with Zayn until late at night and once I did get home, he was either asleep or pretending to be. School were very understanding – I had emailed saying that I was taking time to study and considering exams were next week, a lot of students were doing this anyway. </p><p>I didn’t want to leave his side – I wanted to explore more and more of him by the daily. I wanted him. </p><p>“When are you gonna’ let me take you out properly, hm?” He had his lips on my neck, his scruff was slightly scratchy but only reminded me that I was out with a proper man who made me feel every single type of way. I had lost the transparent self-consciousness that often alerted when he was affectionate with me at the bar where his gang were. </p><p>But I did catch one of the guys, Scott I think, almost having sex with a girl in one of the booths yesterday, which strangely reassured Zayn and my actions. </p><p>“How many times do I need to tell you that I’m just happy here?” I hum, reaching down to hold the hand that held the upper part of my leg. Perhaps this may have been a lie. I felt as though the current state in which I was living was simply to hide from Liam, James, my parents and my teachers. I didn’t want to see any of them, either accidently or on purpose. I wanted to exist with Zayn and see each and every one of his tattoos. </p><p>“It’s a shithole.” He snorts, pulling away. I tilt my head to the side to observe him and meet his gaze. He often said this and I truly understood that he had no connection to this place – only saw it as a meeting ground for his gang. </p><p>“It’s…” I glance over at the table next to me to see one of Zayn’s men slumped over on the table passed out. “It’s nice.” </p><p>He sighs, moving his hand from my thigh to the shoulder furthest away from him. </p><p>“At least let me get ya’ dinner.” </p><p>“I’m not hungry.” </p><p>“You haven’t eaten all day – you’ve just drank.” </p><p>I glance down at the third raspberry bitters of the day I have had and sigh. I guess the consumption of food right now could do my body good. Gosh… what a dramatic change it has undertaken. </p><p>“I guess you’re right.” I murmur, shaking my head side to the side. His hands were roaming all over me, more so than ever before and I knew we were on the same page physically. I didn’t quite think I could be driven to such a point by the simple touch of another human – but this was the third day in a row we had spent with one another. He couldn’t seem to let me go and I relished in every single second of it. </p><p>Apparently, I wasn’t the most distracted either. Louis had sat at the bar yesterday and all day today seemingly shooting daggers in our direction and rolling his eyes every time Zayn went up to him. I guess he was putting off the gang work he had to do to hang out with me. I did sympathise with Louis, but I wanted to very selfish with this man. He was so irresistible. </p><p>“Where do you want me to take you then, hm?” He hums, looking down at me with those eyes that could melt anyone who looked in them. They were deep and intense, yet made me feel such comfort. His voice low and raspy, I could just smell the cigarette on his breath and I wanted so much more. </p><p>I look at up at him with eyes, while not as intense, I’m sure held a similar message. I didn’t know how to be ‘sexy’ and the way I batted my lashes sure felt idiotic and I knew I looked a fool, but I trusted in Zayn not to judge me and to instead, get the message that I just wanted out of this crowded bar. </p><p>Should I bite my lip? Or is that overkill? </p><p>Oh gosh… I’m doing it. He’s smirking now – was he smirking as though he wanted me as much, I wanted him? Or smirking like this kid has no idea how to flirt? </p><p>“Let me take you somewhere.” He murmurs and leans forward to kiss me yet halts right before he could reach me. “Go to the bike, I got a little bit of business to attend to. I won’t be more than 2 minutes. I promise.” </p><p>All I can do is nod at him, albeit irritated that he didn’t kiss me in that moment, but nevertheless with a skip in my step. As soon as he leaves the booth and goes toward Louis and another man who were congregating at the bar, I see myself out and into the alleyway that lined itself up next to the venue. All of the bikes were lined up – illegally parked, I’m sure – and down the end in his usual space stood Zayn’s. While I didn’t want to be completely biased, I really did think his was the best. While not as flashy as some of the others, it – like him – had such a commanding presence and really did look like the best one to be on top of. </p><p>My mind is slowly going from virtuoso to vulgar – I don’t even relinquish that. </p><p>I propped myself up all giddy and happy. I was slowly beginning to properly get to know it. The more I studied it, the more I had a better understanding of how it worked and why Zayn and the others had them as their choice of transportation. They love bikes that much, they’re a part of a motorcycle gang. Who knew? </p><p>Two minutes – he said two minutes, right? It had been about seven and while I had kept myself occupied imagining many scenarios between Zayn and I, it seemed odd that he’d keep me waiting like this. He had only done so once before, but I was occupied with a bunch of Harry’s rambling that I felt less than alone. </p><p>Well, I wasn’t just going to stay put. </p><p>I leapt from the bike, pocketed my hands in my grey cardigan that kept my exposed arms from hitting the autumn air and emerged from the alleyway to face a semi-busy street beginning to form this early evening. </p><p>The fear I once felt in these parts had seemingly disappeared overnight. I think it’s the fact that here in ‘The Damned’ territory – or so they call it – I would be absolutely safe knowing that Zayn was around. </p><p>I didn’t quite realise I was staring out into traffic until I felt a hand grab my shoulder and roughly turn me to face them. My mind had barely any time to think. Expecting the man that had lived in my mind for the past few weeks, I was disappointedly met with grey eyes and a green beanie. The lack of leather and gang memorabilia tipped me off that this was not one of the guys from the gang, nor a bikie at all. He had a loose grey hoodie on that was stained with something and equally distinct looking jogging bottoms. </p><p>My heart sank along with my stomach at a random stranger grabbing ahold of me like this and I gulped with eyes that I’m sure were as wide as dinner plates. </p><p>“Can I help you-”</p><p>“Give me your wallet.” It was a simple mutter and I saw in his eyes no sense of regret, remorse or a tendency to care. If anything, the gaping of my lips were probably slowing him down. I looked an inconvenience. </p><p>“M-My wallet?” I clutched my front jean pocket and instantly his beady eyes flew to that exact location. </p><p>“Give me your wallet. I won’t hurt you. I want your wallet.” </p><p>He seemed as though he was in an immense rush – as though someone was hot on his trail and he needed the money fast. My mind could barely process it. </p><p>“Now.” He grunts and I flinch, glancing down. My hands were basically immobile by how much I was shaking. I wanted to give it to him yet something held me back. Call it justice, moral ambiguity or just the simple fact that I couldn’t move in my place. I refused. </p><p>His hand tightened and bunched up my cardigan. </p><p>“I don’t have any money.” It was the truth. He could steal my wallet and see there was no cash – I would lock my card before he even thought of going to an ATM. </p><p>“Bullshit. Look at you. Give me your wallet.” He shoves me forward this time and lets me go – we both knew I wasn’t about to run. I felt so utterly frozen and powerless. </p><p>I reached down slowly, seeing the absolute crazy in his eyes. </p><p>“Now.” He bellows, glancing over his shoulder before taking a step toward me. I cowered with my head down until my hand found its way into my pocket. </p><p>Seconds felt like minutes; minutes, hours. </p><p>This is why I do not go downtown. </p><p>I felt a hand on my wrist, and I snap my head to see such familiar eyes – albeit a little darker than usual – glancing between my hand and the man ahead of me. </p><p>I wanted to throw myself at him like the shameless damsel I felt I embodied flawlessly. I wanted to kiss him, hug him and hide behind his back all at the same time. I melted into his touch and followed the latter, peering behind his broad shoulder until the I caught proper sight that the man who was heckling me for the wallet.</p><p>This time, he seemed frozen in his place. Zayn seemed so tense. </p><p>“What are you doing?” It was slow, almost calculated and I knew that this man was in trouble. The gang leader had exhibited the same raw and rather terrifying demeanor he had shared in front of James and I knew this man was in trouble. </p><p>“Nothing. I-I… I have to run.” The voice was shaky as he slowly began to back away. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Zayn repeats, leaving me rather cold all on my own as he steps closer to the man. </p><p>“I didn’t realise that this was Damnation territory – I’m sorry.” He held two hands in the air as though it were a sign of surrender. This didn’t stop Zayn from creeping closer toward him while I stood in my position as a voyeur.</p><p>His fists were clenching and unclenching as though he were about to provoke something. </p><p>“What were you doing? What was he doing?” Zayn demands the first part out of him and turns to ask the second to me. I gulp. I could see the fear in the man’s eyes. I could tell that it was a simple mistake and he didn’t know that I had any sort of affiliation with Zayn or the gang. I could sense the fear in him and felt rather dirty to give it away. </p><p>“Blondie. Tell me now.” He ticks, tilting his head to the side and I wince knowing that he wasn’t going to relent. He had a long fuse – or so I thought, and I couldn’t keep winding and winding him up with wide eyes and a complete lack of answers. </p><p>I flicker my eyes to the man with grey eyes and the green beanie – perhaps apologetically. </p><p>“He… He was asking for my wallet.” It didn’t take long for Zayn to reach forward and grab the man in the same fashion as he had grabbed me and drag him into the alleyway where the bikes were. The bar door clicked open and I could see ‘Tomlinson’ sprawled out on a jacket out of the corner of my eye but I my gaze was pressed at the scene. </p><p>It was like I was watching a puppet show – two dark figures in an alleyway. Zayn had him against a wall, practically seething and my stomach was pooling. </p><p>I flinched at the touch of my wrist, my mind immediately visiting a place of remembrance before I am reassured with Louis’ familiar eyes instead of a stranger’s. </p><p>“Let’s get you inside, hey?” He mutters down to me and I turn his grip on my wrist around by position my hand with his – grabbing ahold of him as I watched Zayn continuously taunt the man now pressed against the brick wall. </p><p>“Yeah…” I whisper, seeing the shape of Zayn’s body and how effortless something like this seemed to him, as though he had plenty of practice. </p><p>“Come on Blondie.” He murmurs and reluctantly pulls me in as Scott and another nameless gang member follow Zayn into the alleyway. I gulp. </p><p>Once I am inside, all I want is Zayn. I wanted to know what he was going to do to that man and whether or not that felt justified. I shouldn’t be surprised that this is a part of his life and the way he deals with things… but it was rather confronting for this to be the first time I have truly had to experience it. </p><p>“Did he touch you?” Louis’ face was probably the most serious I had ever seen. He usually had a very easygoing friendly look to him, but this seemed like a bigger deal than I’m sure even I took it. </p><p>“No.” I couldn’t make the situation worse. “I-Is Zayn-”</p><p>“Don’t worry about Zayn.” He huffs, glancing out of the glass once more. “He handles things.” </p><p>“B-But-”</p><p>“It’s okay Blondie. Let me get you a drink.” He nods about. “I’ll make one of those raspberry drinks you like – go to the clubroom and take a breather. I’m sure that was a lot for you.” </p><p>I could only stare at him. The club gave me such a warmth. While I didn’t quite see the situation as threatening as they were dealing with it, I’m sure the absence in gang work had something do to with that, I gave him a blantant smile and shuffled my feet. </p><p>I felt safe in here – more than I probably did anywhere else. They all had Zayn’s back. This meant they had my back. </p><p>“Thanks Louis.” I smile at him, seeing him return it and finally break that serious persona I’m not sure I was comfortable with yet. </p><p>“We don’t let anything happen to friends of the club.” He says, rather matter-of-factly more than anything else. “Get comfy. Malik won’t take long.” </p><p>I nod gently, bow my head to avoid the stares of the other men all seated around – looking as though they were rather intent on joining the fight and meet myself with the red door at the back of the bar that read ‘The Damned; authorized personnel only’ and gulped. </p><p>I hadn’t been in here yet – I’m not quite sure what I expected or why Zayn, Louis and a smattering of other gang members flaunted in and out without the guests they brought into the bar the majority of the time. This felt like the unveiling of a curtain I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see behind. </p><p>It clicked open, lights on as though it had been recently used. In the middle of the room a rather large table stood with around 10 chairs around it, an 11th at the head of it. </p><p>The table wooden and rustic looking, a large flag behind the head of the table read ‘The Damnation: for the dark to prosper,’ and three cigarette butts signposted the table nicely. I guess that explained the scent of the room. </p><p>This was a stark change from the fun and lively bar where they usually hung out behind me. This was where the Zayn Malik I had read about on the news existed. </p><p>The most surprising and stark realisation that I held; I was not scared whatsoever. </p><p>I took each step to investigate something. Their names were inscribed into the table at the front of each seat. I couldn’t find Harry, but I found Louis carved by the right side of Zayn’s seat at the head of the table. I didn’t even need to see ‘MALIK’ sprawled into the wood to fully grasp that was his seat. The cigarette burns pressed into the wood and the high and mighty seat gave it away that this was the residence of a leader. </p><p>As my fingers grazed passed each and every letter of his name, I fully took in who this man was. This man… who I knew so intimately and wanted to be so passionate with, held such an importance. It was almost awe-inspiring. </p><p>I continued my investigation and found myself met with a series of polaroids decorating the wall by the flag. </p><p>Seemingly, each image included a mugshot of men presumably from The Damnation. I knew this from recognizing some of the shots from the articles I had read from the gang. </p><p>I spotted Louis and while I documented the one mugshot from the news, it was joined alongside another two of him on separate occasions. Zayn shared this capacity of images. </p><p>While I did want to know why and how he was arrested, I felt in my stomach that it was something beyond me and something of the past that I didn’t even need to tamper with. This is his life; I need to respect it. </p><p>The door clicked open and I’m faced with Louis with a pink drink clasped between his ringed fingers. He smiles shutting us both into the clubroom. </p><p>“Take a seat – you make my legs hurt.” He chuckles densely walking himself around the table. </p><p>I look down at each name inscribed into the table and sigh. </p><p>“I don’t think I have a seat here.” I huff lightly, glancing up at him. </p><p>He laughs and takes his seat. Here, he existed correctly. </p><p>“You do.” He nods, ushering toward the seat at the end of the table. I raise an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“I don’t know… A part of me thinks if I sit there, it’ll bring me bad luck.” He seemed to appreciate this if the smirk on his lip meant anything. </p><p>“Zayn won’t care.” He sighs. “He’s not superstitious.” </p><p>I look up at his mugshot this time and tuck my bottom lip under my teeth. </p><p>“Yeah… I know.” It was a mere whisper and I bring the drink up to my lips, taking a hasty sip expecting the same taste I have truly gotten myself used to. Wow… This is not the drink Zayn usually gives me – I swear he said raspberry bitters… not petrol. </p><p>“Oh god.” I didn’t even mean to unironically mutter. Louis seemed to notice this as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and glance into the unsuspecting glass of pure alcohol. </p><p>“What’s wrong? Too much?” He seemed amused and I simply glared back at him. </p><p>“I think tar is more forgiving.” </p><p>“Well, that’s how you make raspberry bitters.” He shrugs about. “I guess Malik has been watering down your drinks.” </p><p>I tilt my head to the side – this seemingly made sense. He always emphasises that he was slowly easing me into it and surely knew to make it easy. This man… I swear. </p><p>“Yeah, big time.” I huff, placing the glass on the table before looking back at the brunette who was still watching me so expectantly. </p><p>“I gotta’ ask,” he begins, and I suddenly wanted to leave the room. Louis had been nothing but kind to me but I knew that a lot of that was for show – at least, I felt rather terrified that a lot of it was. Since I slid into Zayn’s life, we have really been inseparable and I knew that this may have put a strain on his correlations with the gang world, whatever that meant. “Why do you keep coming back here?” </p><p>Now, on paper this question sounded snarky and malicious, but the way he executed it seemed to come from a place of curiosity and genuine intrigue. </p><p>“I know Zayn. I’ve known him my whole life and he has never brought the same person here more than once. He’s a player – knows and loves the game. But then there’s you… There hasn’t been a you before and that scares me. You scare me.” </p><p>“I scare you?” I practically scoff at him, but he didn’t seem to find the humour in it. </p><p>“He’s a dangerous man – a passionate one.” He nods about, tapping on the engraving of his name on the table. “But he’s just dropped it all for you. You must be magic in bed.” </p><p>I clear my throat.</p><p>“We haven’t erm… We haven’t.” I state simply, all truthfully – whether this comforted Louis or not. </p><p>He scoffed and shook his head, as though he were trying to unravel something in front of him. </p><p>“Then he has dropped everything for you without even getting in ya’ pants.” He was speaking to himself, I’m sure to say this all out loud ensuring that it made sense in his mind. I stayed quiet – I don’t think I had a place to speak. </p><p>“I really like him, Louis.” I whisper. “I’ve dropped a lot too to be here.” </p><p>“I know you have.” He draws in a breath. “But between you coming here almost everyday and that lawyer you brought in the other night-”</p><p>“He’s nobody.” I shake my head. “I’m here for Zayn.”</p><p>He raises an eyebrow and rubbed his chin with his pointer finger, a large gold ring atop it. </p><p>“Just don’t string him along.” He huffs. “You may be new to this game, but I wouldn’t cross him. You don’t know what he’s capable of yet.” </p><p>“He… He wouldn’t hurt me.” I breathe, and he snorts instantly. </p><p>“I never said he’d hurt you.” He laughs. “I’m talking about the way he’d take it out on the gang. The streets of Bradford would implode on themselves.” </p><p>I stare at him, expecting to see him turn around as though it were a part of a quip – instead I had to relish in the thought that this may be a reality. Good thing I had no plans of hurting him. </p><p>“You don’t have to worry about that.” It was low and raspy. “Trust me, Louis.” </p><p>His eyes bore into mine and I knew that there was a small bond beginning to connect between us. He wanted the best for Zayn; he and I had that in common. </p><p>“Okay then. I’ll trust you.” He nods, flickering his eyes to the door which was rattling and myself. “Don’t let me down, Blondie.” </p><p>I let out an awkward smile, not even guessing who would be walking through the day behind me. Watching Louis seemed like relinquishing in the safety net of the know. I had no idea what Zayn had done. </p><p>“I brought the kid a drink, Malik.” Louis stands to his feet and I keep my back facing the door. I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to see him. I assume he replied non-verbally if Louis’ dismissive smile and hasty exit meant anything. The door closes and I let out the breath I was holding. </p><p>“You didn’t have to do that.” I huff, feeling his head leant on mine from behind me. I stay still. </p><p>“Blondie.” </p><p>“You really didn’t. He didn’t hurt me.” </p><p>“I don’t care.” </p><p>“I do.” </p><p>He sighs and I feel his right arm wrap around me – as though it were an apology. He simply held me tighter, took in a deep breath and if it weren’t for the thousands of thoughts running through my head, I couldn’t not see this as the most intimate moment we had shared. </p><p>We didn’t need to talk. We just needed to touch. I had feelings for him that flew beyond the realm of sanity and rationality and instead only corresponded with the pent-up angst I felt toward the situation. I forgave him. I didn’t feel any fear of him. But I knew I had to let him know that I had a wall up right now. </p><p>“I can’t… I can’t have anything happen to you.” He murmurs, holding me tighter. </p><p>I stay silent again and squeeze my eyes shut. </p><p>“I haven’t had this before. I’m scared and I act stupid because I don’t want to lose it.” </p><p>The words pierced my heart – I wanted to scream in his face that I felt the exact same, but knew it was his turn to take the floor and let me know how he truly feels. </p><p>“Blondie. Please talk to me.” </p><p>I huff, not wanting him to feel anything but reassurance. I turn to face him – he looked, smelt and felt the same. But I knew a different layer of himself had been shed right in front of me. He was the most covered naked man I had ever seen in my life. </p><p>“I’m not angry at you.” I whisper back at him. “I don’t want to lose this either.” </p><p>His eyes – intense, deep, dark and mysterious – lost that usual brute and instead translated want and need. I wanted to kiss him. I needed to reassure him first. </p><p>I run both hands down his arms until I reach his hands. I glance down at them – expecting to see the usual tattooed flanges, I’m met with a gash of red on one of his knuckles. He had so very clearly ran his hands under water before he had come in here with me, but the blood was beginning to fester once more around the wounds. When he notices what I had, he snatches his hands away. </p><p>“No, don’t.” I whisper, grabbing his hands back and looking down at the busted knuckle. There were a few scars on his other hand that signified to me that this was a very common thing he endured – I hated it. </p><p>“Let me help you.”</p><p>He sighs and hangs his head low shamefully. God I did not want him feeling this emotion whatsoever. </p><p>I lead him over to his seat all high and mighty by the end of the table and sit him down. He seemed content there, of course with a gaze that trailed every single move I made. </p><p>“Where’s-”</p><p>He noticed how lost I must’ve looked as I glanced around at the drawers lining up both walls on either side of the table. </p><p>“In the top drawer, to the left.” He ushers over to it with his head. </p><p>When I open it, I’m met with a few bandages and painkillers which rather irked me. How often did they have to clean up wounds? The silver lining to this notion seemed to be that at least they practiced follow-up to cuts and bruises. </p><p>I grab the first thing I deem appropriate for the wound he was sporting. </p><p>“How bad?” I huff, getting on my knees and grabbing the hand. </p><p>“It doesn’t hurt at all.” He responds and I press my thumb only lightly right next to the gash watching him wince. This time, I smirk. </p><p>“How bad?” I repeat. </p><p>“Well… Pressing into it hurts.” He murmurs as stretch out the white cloth. </p><p>“Thought you’d be a bit tougher, Malik.” I raise an eyebrow to him. He rolls his eyes playfully, seemingly relaxing into his seat. </p><p>“I’ve had twenty times worse.” He says, as though it were an achievement. </p><p>I wrap the bandage around his knuckles, as he presses the other fist to his temple to lean on. </p><p>“You don’t need to pretend it doesn’t hurt. I get hurt all the time.” </p><p>“I don’t want you getting hurt.” He perks up. </p><p>“Tell that to a wet bathroom floor, paper cuts and the stairs I have to walk up every day.” He chuckles at this and bites his lip, looking down at me. “Besides, I don’t want you getting hurt either – I gotta’ take care of you.” </p><p>He shuffled slightly in his seat as I said this. </p><p>There was a tad bit of confusion on his face, like I had just said something completely unexpected. </p><p>“What is it? You don’t think I absolutely eat dirt every second or so week when I run up the stairs of my dorm?” I let out. “Better believe it. I get hurt all of the time.” </p><p>“No, no I believe that.” He hits back playfully. “I’m just…” </p><p>I raise an eyebrow as he continues to stall. </p><p>“It’s nice to hear you want to take care of me.” He tilts his head to the side, as though to keep the tone from not going too deep. “Haven’t ever heard that before.” </p><p>“Of course, I do.” I huff.</p><p>He smiles warmly and I felt this one within my soul. I felt complete within this moment. </p><p>I just wish it wasn’t followed up with a buzzing in my pocket with the large three leader word that I had dreaded within these past few days sprawled out on the screen with a small message inscribed beneath. </p><p>‘Your father and I would like to see you tonight. Come quickly.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Pull over! Pull over!” It was muffled by the large black helmet surrounding my mouth and as I tapped on his back frantically, the way he slowed the motorcycle down and brought it a halt by the side of the road meant the message had sufficed. </p>
<p>He turns his shoulder to glance once at me and then to the foreign house beside us. It wasn’t my house – we were about three streets away from it. But as the breath leaves his mouth and the way he gripped onto the handles; I knew he suspected that it was. </p>
<p>I unclip myself from the protective hat, jump off the seat and muddle about with my hair to hide any shred of evidence of helmet hair. </p>
<p>“Thanks for dropping me.” For the first time this week, I had felt the same pure anxiety I only knew before Zayn came into my life. My heart was racing, hands were borderline shaky and I knew what I had to face. </p>
<p>“This is your place?” He huffs, looking up at the white double-story once more. </p>
<p>“Oh?” I turn and glance at it. “Oh, no. I live three streets up.” </p>
<p>He tilts his head to the side and reaches for my waist. I step away from his touch, wanting to hurry up and get this torture over with so I can return to the happy little bubble the biker and I were previously existing in. </p>
<p>“Let me at least drop you at the door-”</p>
<p>“No. I can walk – really.” My eyes narrow at him. I didn’t want them to hear the bike, see Zayn or catch a glimpse at the section of my life I wanted to keep so utterly private. </p>
<p>“Blondie.” He watches me with those eyes so persuasive and commanding. Their power didn’t seem to work on me at this moment. A larger force was pulling me. </p>
<p>“Thank you for the ride, Zayn. Really.” I reach forward to his hand and squeeze it. If only he knew that I had to get this over with so the two of us could be together. I didn’t want any trouble – in fact, confrontation may rank amongst the wickedest things I could think of. </p>
<p>“I know you’re nervous.” He whispers up to me, eyes so transfixed upon my own. “But I don’t want you walking to your house alone.” </p>
<p>“Zayn, this is a safe neighborhood.” I scoff. </p>
<p>“That’s not what I mean. I know it’s safe.” He says, looking about at the quiet streets. “But you can’t hide me.” </p>
<p>“I’m not hiding you.” I hum, my heart breaking that he thought this – whether it affected him entirely or not. “I just don’t want the situation to escalate. You know what I mean.” </p>
<p>He smiles and I felt every doubt disappear. He seemed to have such a power of turning my anxiety and fear of the inevitable into something that I had to work through in order to achieve happiness. </p>
<p>“Just let me handle it.” I pocket my hands in my washed-out denim jacket. Gosh… my mum hates this jacket – what a horrible time to wear it. “See me tomorrow?” </p>
<p>“I’ll pick you up at the same time as always Blondie.” He leans forward and kisses me once, simple and warm. “I’m only a phone call away.” </p>
<p>“I know you are.” I lean forward again. “I’ll see you then.” </p>
<p>I step away from the motorcycle and he tucks the helmet onto a clip at the back of the bike. Mentally, I wanted to shove that helmet so far onto his head to protect him – but the sight of him with hair all quaffed and scruff on his cheeks, chin and neck made the sight of him alone on the bike all worth it. This is who I had to face my parents for. </p>
<p>And whether I had to lie and deny my ass off to get out of it felt required. </p>
<p>He sped off, being sure to send a wink my way and out of the streets leading toward the gated community in which my family home existed in. </p>
<p>I didn’t quite realise how fast I could walk when I reached the gate in a flash, typed in the code and heard the familiar buzz allowing me in. My feet were edging me closer and closer. Zayn… now that was a distant memory. All I had in my head was the fleeting feeling that something was off and that my own self-realization of love, lust, freedom and a complete other life I had been shielded away from was now gone. </p>
<p>As each house passed, I felt myself reduced to who I have lived as my entire life. </p>
<p>I reach my family home. Mum’s car, dad’s cars, James’ car and Liam’s. Okay. My head couldn’t process it. My feet didn’t stop. I’m knocking at the door. </p>
<p>My throat felt dry, as though I had run a marathon. I felt unfit, unkempt, ugly and small. I regretted everything I had done. I wanted to curl up into a ball and apologise for doing this. I wanted them to not be angry at me. Hell, I didn’t even know what they knew. But with Liam and James here – oh god, they really are here – I had to do the math myself. </p>
<p>The door opens after a while and here, I’m faced with the same blue eyes I had seen in the mirror my entire life. She wears a white dress top tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her face, as stonecold as ever, relinquished in the sight of me; eyes immediately going to the drab jacket I was wearing.</p>
<p>“Mum.” I puff, stepping through the door without her invitation. She says nothing. </p>
<p>“How are ya’? You wanted to see me?” </p>
<p>She glances out of the front door – perhaps confused as to where I came from. This is the exact reason I justified Zayn dropping me three streets away. </p>
<p>“Come here,” she sighs, reaching a hand toward me. I grab it and practically yank her toward me and peck her cheek. She inhales once as I pull away and she looks at the jacket once more. </p>
<p>Oh no… I either smelt like Zayn’s cigarettes, his cologne or perhaps it’s the 4 vodka cocktails I had consumed in this day – but I’m sure I had shook them out of my system by now, allowing me to assume it was the former that invaded one of her senses. </p>
<p>“James and Liam are here? Together? Why?” I was going at fifty miles an hour and I pocket my hands into the same jacket. </p>
<p>While not uncommon for Liam to be here without me – it was strange he was here when we had been ignoring each other all week and not speaking. As for James, his work relationship with my father didn’t quite hide the fact that I’m sure he had so many questions. I just hope and pray neither mentioned to my parents where I had been and with whom. </p>
<p>“I thought you and Liam were due to have tea here.” She lets out, standing up straight and proper. “James is just finishing up with your father, but I’ve invited him here too.” </p>
<p>“Oh.” I nod about. “That sounds great – it smells great too! What are you cooking? Is that chicken? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.” </p>
<p>She watches me and I felt like I was going to explode. I didn’t want to speak to Liam and didn’t want to see James after our failure of a date. I had never seen my father truly angry at me – I didn’t want to see that either. Nor did I want to piss off my mother. </p>
<p>“Go and get yourself a drink. Dinner will be ready soon.” She seemed cold and distant… well, more than usual. Perhaps it was the way she didn’t even call out my fashion choices that tipped me off that she knew something she shouldn’t have. She crosses her arms and descends into dad’s office off to the right of the hallway. </p>
<p>I couldn’t be told twice. I practically ran to the kitchen. </p>
<p>I mapped it all out in my head. Mum, Dad and James had to be congregated in his office… talking about god knows what. Liam. Where was Liam? </p>
<p>As I glance about the kitchen in front of me, I take stock of the familiar brunette hair I saw out of the corner of the door by the entrance to the dining room. The adrenaline rushing through me right now pushed past the animosity we had given each other these last couple of days since that one explosive argument. I couldn’t care less what he said – or what I did. I only needed to know what my parents knew. </p>
<p>Liam was taken aback as I fumbled into the dining room, shutting the door behind me. He seemed very nervous, if the hiding of his hands and lack of phone use meant anything, and I eased the stress… for now. </p>
<p>I take the seat right next to him, plopping myself down and facing him – staring at those eyes with such desperation. </p>
<p>“Did you tell them?” Is all I can muster out. He sighs. </p>
<p>“Of course, I didn’t.” He shakes his head firmly, there was always the same comfort between us – come rain, hail or shine in our relationship. </p>
<p>“Then why did mum send me some cryptic text about coming here quickly? A-And she’s being cold… more than usual.” </p>
<p>“It’s nothing I’m aware of.” He says truthfully. “She texted me saying you were coming for dinner and that she’d like me to come before we have exams.” </p>
<p>“Exams…” I practically cringe at this, knowing that today was Friday – my first one, is on Monday. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry for what I said.” He says slowly, those brown eyes boring into mine. “I… I was harsh… but Niall, what are you doing?” </p>
<p>I blink.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah I’m sorry too.” I shake my head. “I’m just – look, I’m all over the shop right now. I completely forgot about exams.” </p>
<p>“That’s why I’m worried.” He says in a low whisper. “You. You would never forget something like that. Ever.” </p>
<p>“I’ve just… I’ve had plans for the first time in my life.” I nod about. “It just completely skipped my mind.” </p>
<p>“I’m worried about you, Ni.” He frowns. “I think everyone is – that’s why you’re here. This is the wrong time for a phase. These exams are gonna’ determine everything.” </p>
<p>“It’s not a phase.” I mutter, staring back at him. “You don’t call having genuine feelings for someone a phase.” </p>
<p>“Genuine feelings? How long have you known this guy? A few weeks at best?” He scoffs.</p>
<p>“Does it matter?” I let out. “He really likes me. I really like him. If this was James and I, I’m sure you wouldn’t be calling it a phase.” </p>
<p>“No I wouldn’t call that a phase. But dating a wanted criminal who I hear about every single night on the news? Yeah, that’s a phase.”</p>
<p>I wanted to lash out… I really did but I did the mature thing and sat up properly, turned away from him to face who the hell was walking through the door now. </p>
<p>Oh great…</p>
<p>“Oh... You really did come.” He huffs, buttoning up the second button of his light grey suit jacket. I did forget just how good looking this man was… but I had something so much better. All I needed from him now was information on what he told my parents. “Liam – it’s nice to see you again.” </p>
<p>I didn’t even want to see the fake grin my best friend would’ve sent him, as though it were a way to display just how much he didn’t approve of Zayn. </p>
<p>“James – I-I’m sorry, I’ve wanted to text you.” I stutter, lying. </p>
<p>He raises both of his eyebrows expectantly and slides into the seat across from me. </p>
<p>“So have I.” He leans back. “I just didn’t know what to say. You seem to have a lot on your plate.” </p>
<p>I gulp.</p>
<p>“Well, yeah…” I murmur. “I’m sorry about all that. Zayn… He really does mean well.” </p>
<p>Liam shuffles about in his seat before sighing. James just stares back at me. </p>
<p>“Niall, I had no idea you were involved with… That type.” He huffs, probably without malice. Either way, it rubbed me wrong. </p>
<p>“Neither did I.” Liam mutters. I shoot a glare his way. </p>
<p>“I’m just sorry that our night ended like that.” I put it to a halt before he can continue. “However, I need to know whether my parents know.” </p>
<p>Like Liam, he sighs. </p>
<p>“I didn’t say anything about it.” He lets out. “They have asked me why you haven’t been seeing me lately though.”</p>
<p>“And what did you tell them?” </p>
<p>“I just said that you’ve been busy studying… haven’t had time for a second date.” He lets out, loosening his tie. I smile at him, grateful at such a response. </p>
<p>“I must be overreacting.” I huff up to Liam who was staring at me, still that cross between dumbfounded and frustrated. </p>
<p>“You just have a guilty conscience.” </p>
<p>I bite my lip. Maybe I did. Maybe the guilt of it all consumed me within. </p>
<p>“Can the both of you just… not mention anything to my parents?” I sigh between them. James just shrugs, as though he were still processing it – his careless answer alluded to me that he didn’t want to involve himself in this type of business. Liam, however, nods as if keeping this secret would kill him. </p>
<p>“Thanks.” I clear my throat, watching both parents enter the dining room – each carrying two dishes that get placed in the middle of the table. </p>
<p>“Niall.” Dad nods at me, tapping me on the shoulder as he skims past and toward his seat at the end of the table. </p>
<p>“Hi Dad.” I whisper, looking at the roast chicken in front of me. </p>
<p>The table was silent. I could quite clearly see James and Liam exchanging glances to one another. Mum wouldn’t stop staring at me and Dad was rummaging to build his plate up. Something was wrong – I could just feel it in my bones. How long would I have to wait for the bomb to go off? </p>
<p>“It looks really nice Mrs. Horan.” Liam breaks the silence, forking some chicken onto his plate with ease. </p>
<p>She doesn’t even reply to him, simply crosses her arms over one another and leans on the table. Her eyes menacingly refuse to leave my person. </p>
<p>“Tell us about school, Niall.” Dad breaks the silence, reaching forward to the glass of red wine I previously hadn’t even noticed. </p>
<p>Liam huffs from beside me and I feel my stomach drop. Of course. Of course, the one chink in my armor came from school. The board probably called my parents. Now this, this is manageable. </p>
<p>“It’s good.” I nod as quickly as possible. “I’ve taken a study break before my exams. I’ve just been studying every day.” </p>
<p>Thank god Zayn isn’t here. He’d be able to clock my ability at lying straight away. </p>
<p>“A study break, huh?” He leans back in his seat, bringing the red wine to his lips once more. </p>
<p>“Yep. Right Liam?” </p>
<p>He, as good a liar as me, gulps his mouthful down and looks about nervously. </p>
<p>“Right.” He nods. “I can assure you, Mr. Horan we’ve been studying together all week. I don’t think I’d be able to do my psychology work without Niall there.” </p>
<p>Thank god for my best friend.</p>
<p>“Huh.” Dad huffs, eyes meeting my mother’s who still didn’t look like she was buying it. “You boys… You realise your headmaster plays golf with me.” </p>
<p>Shit. I couldn’t let him see me sweat. </p>
<p>“Yeah, and?” I scoop a big dollop of mashed potato on my plate. “What about him?”</p>
<p>Dad raises an eyebrow at me. He’s a lawyer – of course he knew I was lying. Even James watched me with knowing eyes as though he was a voyeur in my own personal hell. </p>
<p>“And you know they don’t facilitate at-home study breaks.” He gets out. </p>
<p>“With Niall’s record they allowed us both!” Liam exclaims, pummeling a lie in my parent’s face for my own protection once more. As much as we had fought – he still has shown his true colors to me. I appreciated it. “What did Mr. Morton say, Niall? Something about those with good credit get the week off-”</p>
<p>“Oh, cut it out Liam.” My mother snaps, glaring between us. </p>
<p>“Okay.” He whispers at his plate, clearly giving up on the façade and I knew it was over for me. I could never outplay my parents like this. It has never worked for me, ever. </p>
<p>“You have been skipping school all week… unapproved absences right before you take your exams and graduate – do you know how this looks on your record for university?” She lets out, giving me that harsh voice that whipped me into shape from the time I could comprehend. </p>
<p>I felt humiliated that they felt the need to do this at dinner… with James and Liam here. </p>
<p>“What do you have to say for yourself?” </p>
<p>“I-I… I’ve just needed to take a step back and prepare properly. I have been studying-”</p>
<p>“Huffman,” Dad begins by reciting my headmaster’s name, “got into contact with the security officer at your dorm. You haven’t been home all week.” </p>
<p>Oh, great. </p>
<p>“In fact, you haven’t been home from morning until midnight.” </p>
<p>I stare at my plate. I felt too unsafe to look anywhere else. </p>
<p>“I-I’ve been at the library-”</p>
<p>“Stop lying to us, Niall.” Dad grunts at me. I refused to look up. “We know about the boy.” </p>
<p>I snap my eyes to his. I would never hear the end of this, ever. </p>
<p>“That motorcycle that drops you off every night? The one that dropped you here today?” Mum scoffs, as though she was trying to navigate around the words and truly make sense of them. </p>
<p>“I can explain.” I whisper. </p>
<p>“No, I don’t think you can.” She whispers back at me. I feel Liam’s eyes watching me – perhaps with concern or empathy. James was just watching his plate intently – clearly uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“I-I’m allowed to date.” I let out. “You said – you said to me the other day I can be with someone! That’s why you invited James over.” </p>
<p>The young lawyer clearly didn’t want to be involved as he practically consumed half of the glass of water in front of him. </p>
<p>“Yes – we chose James for you.” Mother snaps. “Not a delinquent who has been in and out of prison since he was 14!” </p>
<p>“I cannot believe you.” Dad bellows, perhaps disgusted at me. I felt worthless. “I cannot believe what privilege you have… and you’ve thrown it all in the bin. All for some… some nobody.” </p>
<p>“We have given you everything.” Mother joins in. “You go to the best school – you’ve had the best tutors, you never went without as a child and now… now you repay your father and I by skipping school to what? Go to some gang den with a man far too old for you and one more arrest away from a prison sentence?” </p>
<p>“I can explain.” My voice was weak. I could only look between my parents now. I knew that if my eyes met Liam’s or James’ I would just burst into tears. </p>
<p>“Unless your explanation means you’ll never see that criminal again and cut him off completely… then don’t bother.” Mother waves her hand up in the air, as though she was dismissing me. </p>
<p>I stare at them. I was caught between trying not to cry, avoiding the temptation to run away from here and trying to logically map out what my next move would be. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” Perhaps, this was a negotiation. I couldn’t quite gage just how much trouble I was in – but in this critical part of my life, I forgot about everything and regained my consciousness as my mother and father’s son. “W-What can I do to make this better?” </p>
<p>“First you can stop seeing that man.” She gets out quickly. “Who knows what type of diseased, drug-addicted life he lives?” </p>
<p>“There’s no need to be cruel.” I whisper, a hot tear leaking out of my eye. I had to hold it all in or I would be a blubbering mess. “He’s really not like that…” </p>
<p>“Really not like that?” This time, Dad scoffs. “A fella and I at work today looked up his file. Do you want to know what I found?” </p>
<p>I didn’t want to. But I had no choice or power here. </p>
<p>“He’s been arrested for drug possession, dealing and manufacturing.” He states simply. “He went into a juvenile centre at 14 – out at 15 because the cops downtown are all paid off by that gang. The justice system is corrupt.”</p>
<p>I glance down. </p>
<p>“Then, arrested again for possession of a firearm. He got out… why? The gang has enough money to pay off anyone in the police force.” </p>
<p>“Why are you telling me this?” I whisper, eyes glassy and desperate. “I-It’s not like I’m unaware of what he does or who he is?” </p>
<p>“That gang have been around since I was studying. They pass from generation to generation and get worse and worse. This boy… the one you have been with non-stop… he’s the worst of them all.” His eyes narrow at me. “He’s untouchable, he’s ruthless and you’re dating him. God… My son.” </p>
<p>He buries his head in his hands, frustrated and angry. I felt disgusted – not at Zayn, nor my parents. </p>
<p>I felt disgusted in myself for getting everyone at this table involved in my messy quest for self-assurance and exploration. </p>
<p>“Look at what you’ve done.” Mother hisses, reaching forward to place a hand on his arm. “How could you do this to us?” </p>
<p>“I-I’m sorry.” </p>
<p>“You have to stop seeing him. You just have to. I don’t want you getting killed or getting on drugs like the rest of them.” She reduces her tone to a whisper, although it still alarmed me as though she was shouting at the top of her lungs. “You were put on this earth to succeed. You get the chance to do that. You get that chance come Monday morning with your first exam.” </p>
<p>Mentally, I took steps back to take stock of what was happening. I had to fight… I had to push. I utilised every fiber of energy I had left to let a single question out. “Or what?” </p>
<p>They seemed taken aback and angrier if anything. I had never spoken back before… Oh god this was already not going to end well – but it seems that it’s about to end worse. </p>
<p>“Before tonight, I assumed you were clever.” Dad mumbles. “Surely you can see that while we love you more than anything, being with that man would be a grave mistake for your career, schooling and success.” </p>
<p>“So you’ll what…? Shut me out and ruin my life just for being with someone?” </p>
<p>“You’ll ruin your own life by being with him.” Mother seethes. “You need to make that choice.” </p>
<p>It stayed silent… Perhaps for ten seconds, minutes or hours – I couldn’t tell the difference. </p>
<p>“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” James utters, sliding out from the table. </p>
<p>“Yeah – yeah, me too.” Liam whispers, trailing the lawyer very closely and they shut the door – leaving me entrapped with a big decision I didn’t want to make. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to threaten you… or make you feel horrible. You’re still my son and I love you.” Dad’s voice slowly raises from the whisper it once was. “But I am an adult. I can see from this angle that a man of his stature will ruin your life. I can’t stand to see it. Picture yourself in my shoes, Niall.” </p>
<p>They were just words at this point. I felt numb. </p>
<p>“End it now before it hurts.” Mother advises. “Minimal damage… greater yield for your success. This is just how it has to be.” </p>
<p>“Niall. Have you got anything to say for yourself?” </p>
<p>I wipe my eyes and stare between them bloodshot and vulnerable. I felt like a failure – that feeling seemed very familiar to me as of late. I had to give up while I was ahead. Losing my family and everything that came with that… I just couldn’t. </p>
<p>But Zayn…</p>
<p>He will find another. He is Zayn Malik.</p>
<p>“You don’t actually believe that a man like him wants to be with you, right?” She whispers, genuinely empathetic. </p>
<p>He’s had just about as much experience dating people as I have experience as a quiet and anxious kid pushed to the side of everything. I am but the equivalence of a weekend fling in his presumably long line of love affairs. This wouldn’t hurt him as much as it hurts me. I had to make this sacrifice. </p>
<p>I just hoped that what we shared meant the world to him, like it has me. </p>
<p>“Men like him… They only want one thing. I hope and pray to god you didn’t give it to him – I don’t want you feeling worse about it.” She huffs and I sniffle, hanging my head low in defeat. </p>
<p>“Okay.” </p>
<p>“Okay what?” </p>
<p>“Okay. I will stop seeing him. Let me just… let me tell him tomorrow.” </p>
<p>They both look between each other. </p>
<p>“We’re not the bad guys here, son.” Dad sighs. “I hope you see our reasons for this. At least one day, when you’re older you will be thanking us.” </p>
<p>“Got it.” I murmur about. “I’ll get the scores you want. I’ll be who you want me to be if it makes you happy.” </p>
<p>“Thank you, love.” Mum sighs, standing up and walking herself around to me. I recoiled at her touch but allowed her to wrap me in her arms as she pecked the crown of my head. “I’m so glad we were able to have this talk.” </p>
<p>The word ‘talk’ seemed inappropriate and we both knew it.</p>
<p>Here, I cleared things up with them. They seemed happy. I had to maintain that… whether it would kill me or not. I had disappointed absolutely everyone in my life and as usual, I am doing the pathetic thing and running away from it. </p>
<p>At least I got a small taste of it... and it was the best thing ever. </p>
<p>I felt sick knowing what I had to do tomorrow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Liam hadn’t spoken to me the entire ride home – perhaps out of pity. It was like he was avoiding bringing up what happened at dinner.</p><p> When a song he liked came on the radio and he found himself tapping against the steering wheel, he ceased. He never did that. </p><p>When the security officer at the door – who I cursed for giving my whereabouts to my parents – began his usual back and forth with my roommate, he once again ceased and hung his head, carrying up the stairs. </p><p>When I found myself staring at reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, red-eyed and puffy cheeked, I knew he was sitting out on his bed not knowing what to do. Our whole lives we had theories of what my parents would be like when they truly exploded. I guess tonight answered this question for us. </p><p>The biggest issue I had with the entire thing is the simplicity of it. I had a simple task to yield a simple result. End things with a man I had known no longer than a month and continue down a path toward pre-conceived success and be rewarded with what I assumed to be the unconditional love and affection of the people who raised me and had given me the life I lead. </p><p>I’m not stupid. I knew that if I didn’t go through with this, a lot would change for me. In fact, I don’t think I had any idea of the true entails of how it would affect me. </p><p>But… Zayn is a gravitational pull to me. He may be all the way on the other side of town, and yet I feel him, want to obey him, be loyal to him, kiss him, hold him, care for him. </p><p>A little longer together and maybe I’d be able to tell him I had love for him. </p><p>All I saw in the mirror was the same pathetic little boy who had hidden his entire life from confrontation; faced with a situation that would end either way in confrontation. </p><p>Internally, of course, I resent Mum and Dad for what they are asking for. But I understand why – I get it. I just need to face up to it and face the consequences I had fretted. </p><p>Liam wasn’t subtle. I could see from under the door that he was standing right there, if the shadow of his feet meant anything. He is also a loud breather when he is nervous. </p><p>What more could I lose? </p><p>I open the door to face a very anxious looking Liam Payne with eyes as wide as saucers, investigating the ground in front of me as though he were avoiding my line of sight. </p><p>“I’m… I’m sorry.” He says and I clench down on my tongue. I felt so fragile and as I began to put myself together piece-by-piece from the argument at the table, I knew even the slightest support from my best friend would send me into a teary mess. </p><p>“That was brutal and… and you don’t deserve that. Nobody does.”</p><p>“Thanks.” I answer, quick and harsh – the latter unintentional – but I had to control these emotions. </p><p>“If you want… we can watch a movie and relax?” He offers out. I wipe my nose and stand up straight. </p><p>“When have I wanted to do that?” I swallow and pocket my hands. My thumb brushes against my phone and I recoil at the call I knew I’d eventually have to make. </p><p>“Yeah… I’m sorry.” He repeats once more. “I’m just trying to – you know…”</p><p>“I know.” I nod firmly. “I know. I appreciate it.” </p><p>He cracks a small smile. I hope he understood the state of my head right now. I couldn’t dwell on it too long. </p><p>“Let’s go over some biology.” I let out, incidentally affirmative. “That’s the first one up on Monday.” </p><p>He stares at me for a little bit, perhaps confused by the sudden change of tone. </p><p>“Yeah, great.” He sighs. “I have no idea what to runover for the chapter six index summaries.” </p><p>I smile at him. </p><p>“I can help you.” </p><p>By the time it was 11:30PM and I had lazily highlighted all of my own notes while helping Liam have a grasp over his own, the tufted sound of a textbook closing perhaps punctuated the façade I had put up that I was okay. </p><p>“Thanks for that. God… I’m gonna’ struggle.” He mutters, knotting his eyebrows and placing his notes in a binder to close. </p><p>“No, you won’t. You just have to know how to answer that 10-mark question and you’ll be set.” I fold each and every diagram together. Besides literature, biology was always the one subject that came rather naturally. Liam on the other hand, felt it more as an obligation. His family plan for him to be a doctor. I think this blueprint rather deterred him from the subject. </p><p>“I wish my brain just got it.” He frowns and leans on a clenched fist. “Like yours does.” </p><p>I huff and shake my head. </p><p>“Come on… you’ll do fine.” </p><p>“You’re not the one who has to be a doctor.” </p><p>“You’re right. I’m glad my parents aren’t pressuring me into becoming something I don’t want to.” </p><p>I didn’t mean it to come out like that. What was worse, is the fact that Liam looked rather guilty. I really didn’t mean to say it. </p><p>“Do you want to finally talk about it?” </p><p>“What is there to talk about?” I stand up from the desk and turn toward the kitchenette where I knew he couldn’t see my face. “You were there, you heard what has to happen.” </p><p>He stays silent for a moment. </p><p>“Is it worth it, Niall?” His voice is low. “You know, is it worth making your parents upset like this? Do you really like him?” </p><p>“I do really like him.” </p><p>I almost love him. </p><p>“Niall-”</p><p>I turn and face him. He had eyes that held a lot of disbelief. </p><p>“You didn’t… You didn’t think it would work, did you?” </p><p>“Of course not.” Maybe a lie. I wanted it to work – perhaps, far too optimistically. God… I just wanted it to work. </p><p>“Then you know what you need to do.” </p><p>“Do I?” I whisper. Our words were one thing, but I’m sure my eyes were as desperate as anything right now. </p><p>“Call him – text him. End it.” He nods, tucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth. </p><p>“I don’t want to.” My head shakes and I felt tears brimming the corners of my eyes. I so wanted this entire day to be over. </p><p>“Perhaps not. But you know you need to.” </p><p>He was speaking truth. He was on my side – whether it was breaking my spirit or not. </p><p>“I can’t just… call him. I need to see him.” I utter out, not knowing what to do with my hands or feet. I felt like I was floating here. </p><p>“Niall-”</p><p>“I am going to go through with it.” I snap. “But I need to see him first.” </p><p>He backs off a little bit and sighs, nodding. I am glad we were finally on the same page. </p><p>“Okay.” He looks around. “I was going to head over to Mark’s room anyway – to grab the copy of the exam timetable.” </p><p>I glance over at the exam table entitled ‘Liam’s’ hung up on the wall next to his psychology notes and took the hint. I appreciated this small gesture – whether we saw eye-to-eye or not. </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>He rubs my shoulder gently and with a bowed head, shuts me in by myself in such a lonely dorm room. </p><p>I don’t spare any time. </p><p>I’m dialing his number. </p><p>I couldn’t quite manufacture what I was going to say. I guess I just didn’t want to cry or let him know something was wrong. It was a curse that he could read me the way that he did. </p><p>“Hi love.” He lets out and I felt my stomach at my knees. </p><p>“H-Hi.” </p><p>“Blondie, you there? I’m sorry – I’m sorry it’s really loud where I am right now.” I could tell by the music in the background. “Is there something wrong?” </p><p>“Hello?” I say a little louder, again some muffling about before the noise quietens down. Perhaps he had just left the room where the music was playing. </p><p>“That’s better,” the sound of a door closing suffices. “Is everything okay?” </p><p>“Yeah – yeah, everything’s okay.” I let out, staring at whatever was in front of me so garishly. </p><p>“That’s good then.” He clears his throat, before resuming a rather hushed tone. “Yeah, go and talk to one of the guys about it – I gotta’ take this call.” </p><p>“Are you busy… or something?” I mutter. “It sounds like you’re busy.” </p><p>“I can talk to you.” He sounded light and rather carefree – which felt like a first. “What can I help you with?” </p><p>“Um…” </p><p>“Yeah I said I needed to take this call.” He basically snaps at whoever was in the room with him. “I’m sorry Blondie – I’m out and it’s all happening.” </p><p>“Oh.” I somehow crack a small smile at the fun it sounded like he was having. </p><p>“And what are you doin’? Studying… and stuff?” </p><p>“Just finished actually.” I glance down at my neat pile of books. “I was hoping to talk to you-”</p><p>“Christ Scott.” He grunts and I sigh once more, taking the backseat to whatever situation he was in. “If you can’t get it – then don’t bother coming to me. Do the one thing I’ve asked you to do…” </p><p>At this point, I had stopped analyzing what was being said and instead focused more or less on what angle I was going to take this. I could very well hide behind this phone call – perhaps, to the best of my ability, or I could man-up and do exactly what Zayn would do in this situation. </p><p>“Look Blondie – this probably isn’t the best time for a phone call.” He sighs. “There’s a lot happening where we are-”</p><p>“Can I meet you?” I speak a little louder, albeit desperately. </p><p>“Ah… tonight?” He lets out. “I thought we had those plans for tomorrow.” </p><p>“Yeah I know.” I glance at my watch seeing it near close to midnight. “I just want to meet you.” </p><p>“You can come and meet me – but I’m not alone. I’m with some of the boys at this club downtown.” </p><p>“Oh.” I gulp. I had never been to a club before. </p><p>“Don’t worry – you’ll be fine. We can be alone if you need.” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah okay.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I um… do you mind if I bring my roommate?” </p><p>This was very spur of the moment. Something about entering Downtown in it’s prime, to a club I had never been to, felt less intimidating knowing I’d have my best friend by my side for the most of it. Besides, I didn’t know how this night was going to play out. I had to stock myself with someone of support. </p><p>“That’s fine.” He says coolly. “I’ll text you the address. I’ve been having a shit night with shit people… I’m really looking forward to seeing you now.” </p><p>Oh god… how could I do this to someone? </p><p>“Okay.” I whisper. “I’ll see you soon.” </p><p>“I’m counting on it, Blondie.” </p><p>He hangs the phone up and I throw myself into action – if it meant that my brain didn’t have to do all of the heavy-work and I could instead focus on practicality. I often did find the oddest things to avoid my problems with. </p><p>“What does one wear to a club?” I utter to myself, opening my wardrobe with such disdain. All of my clothes were so… beige? </p><p>“Whatever.” I dismiss all of the harrowing thoughts provoking me. A white t-shirt with the black jeans I already had clad to my legs felt appropriate. White tennis shoes, yeah… jacket, no. </p><p>I pocket my wallet, phone and keys and head out of the door across the hall to fetch my roommate – who really had no choice but to accompany me. </p><p>“Niall?” Mark answers the door and I glance behind him to see Liam sat on the couch – as awkward as ever. </p><p>“Niall?” Liam now stands to his feet, pocketing his phone. </p><p>“Um… Can I borrow you a sec?” </p><p>“Yeah I was just leaving anyway.” He taps Mark on the shoulder. “Thanks though for the pointers – I’ll see you Monday?” </p><p>“Yeah, don’t remind me.” The other snorts and he joins me in the hallway. Immediately, I hand him over keys. </p><p>“What’s this for?” </p><p>“Do you mind driving me downtown?” </p><p>“Niall – what-”</p><p>“I need to see Zayn. I don’t want to be alone for this.” </p><p>He looked as though he wanted to argue but failed to a sigh and accepted the favor I had asked of him.  </p><p>“Where do you need to be?” </p><p>The drive was quiet. Although, unlike on the way here, Liam looked rather reserved and nervous the closer we edged to the club address Zayn had texted me. I didn’t want to think about it… I couldn’t think about it. </p><p>What was I to say? How would he react? Am I really going through with this? </p><p>I think we both gulped as we looked up at our destination. </p><p>‘The Crimson Viper’ </p><p>There was a security man out the front with one arm crossed over the other, lanyard around his neck, tattooed arms and neck on display that really seemed to deter anyone. </p><p>No windows… no flashy lights – just the slight vibration from the bass of the music that tipped us off that this seemed to be the right place. </p><p>“Charming.” Liam whispers to himself, eyes like saucers as he too observes the monstrosity in front of us. I thought by now, I would’ve gotten better at things like this. Perhaps not. </p><p>“Did you… Did you want to wait in the car?” Our eyes meet, his so incredibly frightened – I’m sure, as much as mine. </p><p>“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Strangely, I think I’d rather be in there, then by myself in this car.” </p><p>I nod and we both slide out of the vehicle with ease and restraint. I didn’t even want to approach the intimidating bouncer who really made me regret this move. I should’ve just asked to meet Zayn somewhere. With everything that had happened to me today, I’m sure my brain was taking a small vacation. </p><p>He, in leather-clad boots, takes a few steps toward us as though we were security threats. </p><p>“Sorry boys.” He shakes his head. “No kids allowed.” </p><p>“Oh,” I fumble about in my jeans – a small stutter to the regular movement of my hands. I hand him over my ID and he raises an eyebrow suspiciously. </p><p>He glances at Liam who must’ve grabbed his own out in the car. They exchange ID card for intense stare and I hold my hands behind my back in hopes that he would just let us in. </p><p>“Like I said,” he hands them both back. “No kids allowed.” </p><p>Liam huffs and watches me – I could just tell he wanted to take this advice and move back to the car. But not me, I needed to see Zayn. </p><p>I take one step closer and he takes two. </p><p>Oh god… </p><p>I could just about see every single tattoo on his thick neck and I felt as though I was about to eat my words. </p><p>“You don’t want to come any closer.” He advises pointedly. “This is a private venue.” </p><p>“I’m here to see someone.” </p><p>“Who?” </p><p>“Malik.” I say, a hushed voice. Nobody seemed to call him Zayn beside Louis and I. This seemed like the most appropriate way to address him. </p><p>“You’re here… for Malik?” He looks me up and down, then shifts his gaze to Liam. “What business do you have with him?” </p><p>“Uhh…” I was running out of ideas, patience and fear. “Personal business.” </p><p>“Oh,” this time, a smirk. He properly looks me up and down this time and I wanted to hide beneath the piece of cotton wool I had within my entire life. “My apologies. How could I keep him waiting?” </p><p>I glare at him. </p><p>He twists the doorknob and pushes the dark wood forward. </p><p>“Enjoy. You’ll find him down the back.” </p><p>Liam and I look between each other once more with the same mutual agreement; what the hell were we getting ourselves into? </p><p>The music… it was so overwhelmingly loud. Everything was tinged a purple and there seemed to be a very distinct smell. Cigarettes… whiskey… just the general odor of a group of men? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it unnerved me. </p><p>There were bodies all pressed up against one another on the dance floor – smoke and lasers illuminated the picture in front of me. They weren’t regular party-gooers either. Each man wore a distinct jacket. Those that didn’t, had a very scantily clad woman they were dancing with covered in it. </p><p>Down the back… Down the back… I could hardly see over the ocean of people and by the bar to the left of the room. I hoped to God we didn’t have to walk through that. </p><p>“Niall! Is this really a good idea?” Liam had no choice but to yell over the loud music, and I felt his hand grab my t-shirt tightly. </p><p>“I don’t know yet.” I yell back, basking in my sober and distinguishable perception. I had to man up. I had to find Zayn and fix this very big and deep hole I was in before everything got worse. “Let’s find out.” </p><p>“Uh – what-”</p><p>I cut him off by snatching onto his wrist and pulling him along the wall to get to some unknown destination. We were so far away from home. Whenever I glanced back at Liam, his eyes were pierced toward something unsettling; such as this guy snorting something off a woman’s bare stomach. Okay – we were astronomically far from the dorms. </p><p>However, at the end of this raging mess of a club, an elevated platform sheathed in red curtain stood firmly at the back. There was a small rope gate keeping those behind it in and those outside of it, out. </p><p>Again, our eyes meet mutually, and I take one step toward the gate with regret and grimace. I gripped onto Liam tighter and he stepped closer toward me. Somehow, the confrontation that Zayn and whoever else being above the others and kept in an exclusive area amidst the intimidating, rough and inept crowd we had just passed, irked me. </p><p>There was another larger man guarding the gate – in similar uniform to the man out the front. I gulp and frantically look behind him to see if I recognized anyone. In poor design, I could barely see anything or anyone. Great. </p><p>“Let us through, Chester, yeah?” I felt a hand grip onto my shoulder, and I look up to a very familiar Harry. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see him. He had changed since I saw him today – a black flannelette shirt hugged his singlet clad torso and he wore a distinctly green bandana in his head.</p><p>“Who are these two?” The man ushers to both Liam and I. </p><p>“Malik’s guests – not mine.” He snorts and brushes past the doorman who motions with his bald him, as though inviting us in. I let go of Liam and keep my eyes firmly planted on the familiar back in front of me. Harry really did rub me the wrong way – if our last meeting meant anything – but, in this instance I was very glad to see him. </p><p>It was much quieter down the back. The red curtains draped the walls, the lights were slightly dimmed and there was a bar back here with table service. The waitresses, uniformed in black miniskirts, thigh-high stockings and barely-there white button up tops were seen floating about with trays. </p><p>I recognized a few men from Zayn’s gang sat about in the chairs, laughing, chatting, snorting lines… the usual scene from them. They were mixed with another gang – black jackets accented with red all over. They all seemed friendly together – Harry even took a seat amongst a couple. </p><p>We were so incredibly out of place here. My eyes desperately searched for Zayn… Louis… anyone. </p><p>“Which one is erm… Zayn?” Liam says close to my ear. I scan the lounge. All I could note was increased drug-use, excessive drinking and particular feel to the room that definitely uninvited the two of us. </p><p>I just hoped his nose was clean – or not. I’m not sure I wanted him to even recall the blubbering mess I was soon to become. </p><p>“I don’t see him.” I grunt, frustrated. I look about once more and seemingly recognize brown hair hunched over the table. Louis? </p><p>He flicks his head up, rubs his nose and chuckles rather boisterously at the person beside him. Oh gosh… </p><p>“I see someone I know. He’ll know where Zayn is.” </p><p>“Niall, I really think we shouldn’t be back here.” He grabs my wrist. </p><p>“You want me to speak to Zayn right?” </p><p>“Yes but… but here? Right now? These people look dangerous.” His eyes dart about and his voice lowers. </p><p>“If Zayn is here – we’re safe. I promise.” I narrow my gaze at him. </p><p>“Will we be safe after you tell him what you have to?” </p><p>“I…” I couldn’t answer that. Instead, my eyes fall upon the very person I wanted to see and avoid all in the same. He was directly to the back, at his own table guarded by another rope. He was centered, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips and another man to the side of him. The other, a little older, a cigar clasped between his fingers and a differing jacket loudly featuring upon him. They were talking like old friends – Zayn had a small smile to his lips and I quickly noticed the glass of whiskey in his hand. </p><p>“There he is.” I don’t even wait to see Liam’s reaction. I stalk closer and closer to the table guarded by another man – although, this one clearly didn’t work for the venue. He too, wore a red jacket just as the others did. </p><p>“Oh god.” I shake my head and glance at my best friend once more who couldn’t seem to rip his eyes from the man, I had spent all of my recent time with. It was like he was watching him in disbelief. </p><p>I wasn’t sure which step closer would tip Zayn off that I was present. His eyes seemed to snap up to meet mine by the seventh or so inch closer. He stood up – a big smug grin on his lip as he doused the cigarette in his finger onto the ashtray in front of him and the two of us could have a better look. Why? Why did he need to look… just angelic today? Why did the universe have it out for me? </p><p>Think, Niall, think. Everything my parents had said over dinner. I had to keep that in mind as though it were mandatory for any progression. Or else… Or else I’d end up a mess and back in his arms. </p><p>“Blondie!” He calls, ushering us over. “This is my Blondie – the one I was telling you about.” </p><p>I gulp and look down at the man next to him. He had a very charming face – not so in the attractive sense, but the type of face that could talk you into buying a house or jumping off a cliff. He runs a hand through his dark hair and waves a hand to signal us through. </p><p>When we’re allowed past the rope and it is then clasped behind us, I wanted to run. I was making a mistake. </p><p>It felt as though Liam and I were in front of the principal. Everything felt off and being around Zayn and the Damnation for so long made me slightly uncomfortable in the presence of another gang and presumably their leader. </p><p>He walks himself around the table and pulls me into him, lips laid to my cheek and I wanted to melt away into his touch. There was so much I wanted to do with him… I hadn’t even felt the love I craved and wanted from him yet. I never wished to be apart of another family more. </p><p>“You look… gorgeous.” He whispers into my ear and I reach down to hold his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly. “Come and sit down.” </p><p>“Zayn I- I kind of need to talk to you.” I mutter close to him, in hopes that the man at the table doesn’t provoke conversation or notice me. </p><p>“What about?” He narrows his eyes.</p><p>“We just need to talk-”</p><p>“Malik, you going to introduce me?” There it is, that charming older smile at the table. He had that big cigar still between his fingers and it smelt rather pungent – I would much rather the husky and addictive smell of Zayn.  </p><p>He goes to pull away but I reach down for his hand, to keep him close and safe near me. His eyes snap down to meet mine, concern in his eyes for a split second before he looks back at the man at the table. </p><p>“Declan.” He ushers toward me. “Declan – this is Niall. He’s my… He’s mine.” </p><p>The man smirks between Zayn and I with such knowing eyes. He seemed to study me with intent. It was rather unnerving how friendly and approachable he looked while draped in a jacket that read ‘VIPERS.’ </p><p>“Lovely to meet you.” He holds out a hand to me that I reluctantly accept, giving it a small shake. “I can tell this is your first time here.” </p><p>“He’s from uptown.” Zayn’s hand finds itself around my waist. “Far, far away from his home.” </p><p>I could tell he had been drinking. He smelt of whiskey. </p><p>“Gotta’ give it up to the man.” He holds his drink up to Zayn so confidently. “You know where to find them.” </p><p>I let out an awkward smile, shifting about slightly. </p><p>“And you?” </p><p>Liam seemed rather startled by the attention he was receiving off Zayn and Declan – both watched him as though he were a specimen beneath a microscope. </p><p>“Liam.” He spurts out so sheepishly. I’m sure if they didn’t lean themselves forward they wouldn’t have been able to hear him. “My name is Liam.” </p><p>Both continue their stare. </p><p>“How do you find it here, Liam?” Declan tilts his head to the side, that gleaming grin to his lips. </p><p>“This is his club – always brings the boys and I back here for a drink.” Zayn says in my ear as my best friend sheepishly asks him a question. </p><p>“Amongst other things.” I usher down to where Louis was so evidently going in for more drugs – I’m not even sure what it was – with a bunch of guys. Zayn bites his lip. </p><p>“That’s not me, Blondie.” His eyes translated an almost warning – to not even ask about it. I stopped him there. </p><p>“We need to talk.” </p><p>“Yeah I know.” He hums. “I can take us somewhere a little private?” </p><p>“Yes please.” </p><p>He turns to Declan who was watching Liam with such intent, chuckling at something he said rather boisterously. </p><p>“Do you mind if I go out the back with Blondie for a bit, mate?” He had seemed so easygoing and carefree. It was such a stark change from what I had seen him as strictly around his gang. He was clearly very comfortable with this man, the head of an opposing gang. </p><p>“Be my guest.” He holds his drink up to us once more. “What about your friend here?” </p><p>Zayn snaps his head over to Liam who looked rather terrified. </p><p>“Tomlinson.” He calls down to him. He looks up just as hastily. “Take care of Blondie’s mate here!” </p><p>Liam gulps and watches me desperately. </p><p>“What does he mean by take care of?” He was dripping in fear. I knew Louis wouldn’t try anything too outlandish. I think… </p><p>“He’s nice, it’s okay. Meet me out the front shortly?”</p><p>His eyes were somber but he nodded understandably. As the blue-eyed felon approached the table, Zayn slipped us away and toward a door down the back. </p><p>Surprisingly, there seemed to be nothing back here beside alcohol stocked up in crates, a desk with papers and a lounge suite. It was so… clean-cut and mediocre for the monstrosity of a scene inside. He lets us out another door and into the chilly air where a few bikes were parked. It was rather quiet. </p><p>I walk forward a little and cradle my arms. I’m sure they were cold… I just didn’t have the brain capacity to do anything about it. My mind was a little occupied with so much more. </p><p>“That’s better.” He huffs, leaning himself up against the brick wall. </p><p>I turn to face him properly this time. I couldn’t quite gage the situation or how to deal with it. Instead, I found solace in glancing at the floor – as though that would help me out in articulating my fate. </p><p>Please reach into your pocket… Grab out a cigarette. I couldn’t even bare to begin a conversation. </p><p>He just stands there, staring at me. He looked, god, he looked incredible. I wanted to soak everything up and by everything, I mean soak up everything I needed to think about. </p><p>I wanted to be with Zayn – so goddamn bad. I wanted to kiss him, hold him, be cherished and look after him. I wanted more.</p><p>I needed a family. I needed my parents to love me and not make them upset. I needed to succeed. </p><p>“Why is it that something’s changed?” He tilts his head to the side, still observing me. </p><p>“Changed?” My voice light and high-pitched. It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out where all of my thoughts laid. </p><p>“You were one person this morning and now… you’re someone else.” </p><p>I shuffle about and look to my white trainers with such intent. </p><p>“Blondie.” He says it so softly. I felt as if I was going to burst. “Blondie, answer me.” </p><p>I snap up. I broke my own heart by staring back at him. His eyes delved so deeply into my heart and all I saw in him was how I felt in his arms. </p><p>“You said the first night we met to not get attached, right?” My voice was about a million miles per hour. “A-And every single person I’ve spoken to about you tell me that you never do this. You never bring somebody back more than once. You never drop any work for the gang, you’re not distracted…” </p><p>He seemed so very serious now. As if he were fearful of what was to come. </p><p>“Why… Why have you made an exception?” I hold my hands out to the side. “Why me? A-Are they just telling me that to make me feel better? What is this to you? What am I?” </p><p>Again, so very blank and unreadable. </p><p>“Why do you think?” He hits back. He didn’t seem happy whatsoever… as though he knew what was to come. </p><p>“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking.” </p><p>He scoffs and folds his arms over. </p><p>“Why do you keep coming back here? Answer that if you want to know why I keep having you.” His tone so pointedly addresses this. “This isn’t… You’re not some one night stand, I don’t want that from you.” </p><p>He pauses. </p><p>“I mean… I want everything from you.” He looks me up and down. “But I want it always. I don’t just want you for one night.” </p><p>“Zayn I-”</p><p>“I don’t do this. When they say that to you, they mean it.” He glared at me. “Usually it’s just the night. Quick, to the point – a nice way to get relief at the end of the day and then I never hear from them again. Do you want to know why I fuck someone and leave them?” </p><p>I gulp. The way he was speaking – each syllable had malice and force. </p><p>“Because I don’t care.” Simple. “I don’t care about them or how they feel, or what they do, where they spend their time, what they eat, when they sleep…” </p><p>He curls his bottom lip beneath his teeth. </p><p>“But that’s not you.” I felt my heart in my throat at this point. “I want it all, Blondie. I want you to be with me. I want to kiss you, hold you, protect you… fuck you, love you. I want that – that’s why you’re here and why I keep coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths.” </p><p>“Zayn I-”</p><p>He takes another step closer to me. </p><p>“And I haven’t had this… just like you haven’t.” He looks down at me, that dominance so overwhelming. “I have no idea what I’m doing being with someone who is genuinely pure, nervous, innocent, sweet. I’m as out lost as you.”  </p><p>We both stay at one another. Our eyes told a complete other story. </p><p>I had tears at the brim of each socket, he was watching me with such desperation. While his words and tone of voice remained calm, I could just tell through his gaze that he was pleading. </p><p>“So answer me this,” he was whispering. It was the loudest thing in the world. “Why have you changed after going to dinner with your family?” </p><p>It were as if I had been caught red-handing stealing or something; the guilt and anxiousness coursing through my veins was insurmountable. </p><p>“Next week is the most important week of my life.” I whisper, pressing a shoulder forward. “And they found out.” </p><p>He scoffs and looks to the floor. </p><p>“They found out about you… this… us.” </p><p>“And they had things to say?” </p><p>I purse my lips and glance back up at him. </p><p>“I can’t see you anymore.” </p><p>His eyes do not falter, he doesn’t loosen the expression on his face – just remains still as though he had projected this, and I did not surprise him whatsoever. </p><p>The silence was deafening. Although, I didn’t want to run from this as I suspected. I don’t think I had to energy. </p><p>“I can’t do this. I can’t throw it away.” </p><p>“What did they tell you?” He was so calm. </p><p>“They told me that if I stay here with you, that’ll be it.” I press a shoulder forward. “I’m not taking a gamble because I selfishly want you.” </p><p>“Blondie,” he drawls out, holding his head back. “Don’t do this. Don’t believe what they’re telling you.” </p><p>“They’re my parents.” I grab my arms tighter. “I was put on this earth by them for them. I have to hold up my end of the deal.” </p><p>His eyes don’t leave mine, instead he pockets his hands in his jacket and looks about. He bites down hard on his lip and his knees slightly bounce as though he was seeking to feel something. </p><p>“So you just… You’re done with this?” He refuses to look back at me. “Knowing how I felt, how you felt… everything? You’re still okay with this being done?” </p><p>“Yes.” I could barely say it – this was the biggest lie of all. </p><p>“Okay.” He scoffs, eyes darting about. “Okay. Okay.” </p><p>He was talking to himself, voice deep and dreary. His gaze felt so incredibly dark – the type I saw when that man tried to rob me. He held resentment… sadness and sorrow. For a man who had been so blank all of this time, this was the most animated I had ever seen him. </p><p>“Remind me to just… not do this again.” He looks up at me bitterly. “At least I can tell everyone that it wasn’t me that fucked it up.” </p><p>“You can’t… you can’t be serious, Zayn. I have no choice-”</p><p>“You do. You do have a choice, Blondie.” He straightens himself up. “You just don’t have the balls to use it. You’d rather please your parents.” </p><p>“They’re my parents.” I narrow my eyes at him. </p><p>“And you’re old enough to be with who you want to.” </p><p>“I can’t be with you.” I shake my head, a hot tear leaking from my face. “This isn’t my life – I will never fit here.” </p><p>“You fit with me, not the Damned.” He snaps and I take a step back from him. The somewhat dissolution of remaining civil disappeared. He was angry at me. I completely understood. “I fit with you, not your family. What makes that an exception?” </p><p>I couldn’t even answer it. I just shake my head and he sighs once more, resorting to the floor for solace. </p><p>“I’m not going to waste anymore of your time.” He straightens up. “You go off and be unhappy. You know where I’ll be.” </p><p>“Zayn.” I whisper as he edges closer and closer to the door. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He huffs, opening it up and allowing the noise from the inside pierce the stillness of the outside. “You said what you needed to.” </p><p>The door shuts and I felt so incredibly small in this hole I had dug for myself. I could tatter on and on about how my parents were to blame. </p><p>In this case, they were the judge and jury. </p><p>I was the executioner.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! This is a bit of a longer chapter but i hope you enjoy! </p>
<p>Please let me know what you think so far xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t believe you.” He grunts, hiking up his backpack and glaring at the paper in front of him. “How did you get a 25 out of 25 and I got a measly 20?” </p>
<p>The leaves were beginning to stiffen and fall from the trees, my uniform felt ill-fitting on a Sunday afternoon and I knew in my heart of hearts that I would absolutely nail the Biology exam tomorrow. The final assignment we had to hand in, one that was meant to challenge and provoke external thought before our last hurrah in the bio lab, didn’t even feel as though I tried. </p>
<p>“I think you hide notes in your blazer sleeve.” Another one of the guys retorts, a snicker to his tone. </p>
<p>“No he’s got the force. Probably uses all that time up in his room practicing mind reading or something.” </p>
<p>“Or your parents pay for your grades.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s probably that one.” I mutter to the ground, knowing good and well it was all for laughter and light-heartedness. </p>
<p>“Come on,” Liam huffs out. “Aren’t you the guy who had like eighty tutors growing up? Your parents paid for your grades and Niall still iced you.” </p>
<p>The group erupts once more, and I loosen the noose around my neck disguised in private school uniform. </p>
<p>“And aren’t you the guy who has to be a doctor and you got a what? Let me see your paper-”</p>
<p>“Oh, trot off.” Liam was laughing as though he held all of the glee in the world in his heart. Endearing… for the day before exam week. </p>
<p>Everyone was basking in such high hopes. I’m not sure for what. </p>
<p>Liam, with a skip in his step and laughter to his lips, was blatantly ignoring the fact that his most important exam – the one the university board would be looking at – was in less than 12 hours. </p>
<p>Mark, with his scarf hiked around his head as though it were a bandage, seemed quite jovial for a politician’s son. His father probably sucked up the headmaster’s ass more than my own and that was a feat within itself. He couldn’t care less about what he had to do and how he had to perform. </p>
<p>Joshua was still gaping at his test score. To him, 20 out of 25 was pathetic and I was an overachiever who he theorized practiced mind-control. He didn’t care about himself or what he had done. He was too concerned about everyone else knowing good and well that whatever happens come Monday morning, he will have a huge trust fund to always fall back on. </p>
<p>Liam, Mark, Joshua… they truly didn’t care. They didn’t care what was to come. They didn’t care about what their parent’s truly thought. Money and privilege were never a worry and it never will be. I always found it rather laughable that my best friend stressed so much about getting into the medical course he desired from a prestigious university. He would say over takeout that if he didn’t get in, his life would be over. The dean of that university spent every summer with his family in France. He was born to attend there. </p>
<p>This all felt useless, worthless and borderline abusive what my parents had put me through to reach this point in my life. They flew in an English tutor from London, a Japanese tutor from Japan, a math tutor from Germany and an eccentric theoretical physicist from Greece just to help me with my advanced physics class. </p>
<p>I would sit day in and day out in the library reading every single book within my radius in hopes that it would bump a few notches up on my score. I said no to parties, friends, boyfriends, fun, life… all to be a champion for my parents to flaunt. </p>
<p>I did all that… thousands of hours of sacrifice and study – perhaps to please them and earn their affection. </p>
<p>Looking about at Liam, Mark and Joshua – I felt like the biggest idiot here. I should’ve just kept my own trust fund and inheritance in mind like they did. Maybe I wouldn’t be as miserable that I tried so hard right now. </p>
<p>“I’m going to see if the café has any more energy drinks. I’ve gotta’ cram tonight.” One of them sighs, I don’t even take note. </p>
<p>“I’ll come with you, Jake drank all of the ones I had in the fridge.” The two left, leaving Liam and I behind. He was still laughing something off, that small smile plastered about his face and integrity to boot. </p>
<p>“Looks like I’ve got a lot to study for tonight.” He sighs, nudging my arm gently. “What about you?” </p>
<p>“Yeah.” I shrug, kicking the gravel as we walked together. Everything seemingly felt like it was back to normal. It was as if nothing had happened at all and I simply blanked for a few weeks. </p>
<p>“I think Josh is right though – I bet you can read minds.” He was joking about; I didn’t see the humor which failed to conjure a laugh which made his face fall and my guilt to sky-rocket. </p>
<p>“You alright?” He bites his lip. “I mean, you’ve had a tough couple of days and exams are tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Of course, I’m alright.” I hold my books closer to my chest. “I’m just nervous I’ll stuff it up.” </p>
<p>“Clearly you won’t.” </p>
<p>“Well, there’s a first time for everything I guess.” </p>
<p>He doesn’t speak and all that is heard is the scuffle of feet on gravel, the distant chatter around campus and the cool wind that blew so defyingly loud. </p>
<p>“You haven’t spoken to me yet about what happened.” </p>
<p>“I don’t really want to talk about it.” </p>
<p>“Niall, I don’t understand why you did it; why you were with a guy like that.” He begins and I rolled my eyes, just so over it by now. “But I can tell you really, really liked him.” </p>
<p>Again, the scuffling of feet, distant chatter and wind. </p>
<p>“You don’t need to go through this alone.” He sighed. “Especially now. We need you to go into the exam hall tomorrow with a clear mind and healthy conscience.” </p>
<p>“I don’t bet on that happening.” </p>
<p>“Come on,” he pulls us over on the side of the pathway, beneath a large hardwood tree. “You need to leave that behind and truly focus – not just for your grades but for… your wellbeing? Yeah. Your wellbeing.” </p>
<p>“My wellbeing?” I scoff. “What is that? You, my mum, my dad, the teachers here… you’ve never cared about that.” </p>
<p>“You’re being unreasonable, Niall.” He murmurs about. “I’ll be the first one to say that what happened was unfair… but it’s all for you.” </p>
<p>“We don’t need to talk about it, Liam.” I let out. “I ended it, he hates me, I hate me, there’s nothing more to it.” </p>
<p>“At least let me be your best friend. Talk to me about it, tell me what happened.” </p>
<p>“I said ‘sorry, Zayn. I’m just a total piece of crap who would follow my family into a fire to hold up its reputation. Thanks for the memories.’” </p>
<p>He just frowns at me. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry you had to do that.” </p>
<p>“What if I didn’t?” I tilt my head to the side. “Would you still be this apologetic and tiptoe around me? Or would you yell and tell me what I mistake I was making if I stayed?” </p>
<p>He can only watch in awe. </p>
<p>“Oh wait, never mind.” I chuckle sarcastically to myself. “You already did yell at me and tell me that I was making a mistake when I was with him. Stop acting like you care.” </p>
<p>“I said I was sorry.” </p>
<p>“Good thing it doesn’t count for anything. You win – my parents win too.” He was basically gawking at me. Strangely, I felt no remorse or satisfaction. I just felt the need to run home and get into bed. </p>
<p>“He changed you. Not sure how.” He was speaking quiet enough that it could maybe be classified as talking to himself. But I heard. “But you were one person before him and another after.” </p>
<p>“Good.” I nod. “Now let’s hope I can get these stupid grades for my parents. It’s not like I even have to try.” </p>
<p>Liam didn’t follow me back to the dorm. He lowered his head and said he had to go to the library to make some copies. I didn’t even say goodbye – my willpower was next to non-existent. </p>
<p>Every single second I spent thinking of Zayn and what could have been. I doubt I had the maturity to imagine anything evenly seemingly realistic. It all played out as a fantasy. </p>
<p>I would sit at home writing, reading – perhaps both; whatever made me happy. He’d be there, those tattooed hands to hold me and sweet voice to keep me calm. I would give him a glass of whiskey, he’d run his fingers through my hair. We would go to bed together, I could properly see every part of him that I both imagined and desired. He’d kiss me goodnight and I’d spend my quota of dreams atop of his bike, blazing onto the highway as I held him tight. </p>
<p>Laughable… perhaps so because of my age and complete lack of knowledge of the real world outside of this bubble. But I just wished I could’ve spent more time. </p>
<p>I wanted to know Declan – understand him and Zayn’s relationship as two separate gang leaders. I didn’t even know they would liase. I had heard of the Vipers before, not quite as much as the Damnation, but enough to garner this curiosity. I really knew nothing about the gang world. </p>
<p>Zayn never told me the ambitions for the gang… why he runs it, who he runs it for, what he wants to achieve. </p>
<p>He never even got to take me on that date he was so eager for. </p>
<p>I felt like the blood on my hands was almost drying up. I kept forfeiting ownership of my broken heart between myself and my parents, but ultimately, I knew it was 100% my fault. </p>
<p>And I would just have to suffer because of it. </p>
<p>At home, I kept a substantial distance from all of my books. I threw on a pair of sweats and trampled my stuffy uniform to the ground. I don’t think I had ever considered just how itchy and tight it was. It belonged on the floor. </p>
<p>The lights were flicked off and the setting sun was all that illuminated the dorm from the corners of the curtains. </p>
<p>For as long as I could remember, I always imagined the night before my first exam. Liam and I would eat a balanced meal, keep well hydrated, read over our notes once more and get to bed on time in hopes of an early start. </p>
<p>As of now, we’re seperated – both in body and soul – and I am sat on the couch, a packet of crisps under my wing watching whatever trashy TV show came on first. I somehow liked it better this way. There was nothing to think about. </p>
<p>I could wallow in guilt, not look forward to the future and pray that a miracle would happen. </p>
<p>And that miracle… a nap.</p>
<p>When I awoke, I found myself rather surprised at the lack of regret, discomfort and anger felt toward my inefficient pastime that I usually encompassed after a nap. Instead, I felt rejuvenated, refreshed and dare I say ready to get back to studying and put my somber mood to rest. </p>
<p>It was still light out, the birds were chirping and if the sound of rummaging through the dormitory meant anything; Liam had returned. Still uniform-clad, he had a travel mug of coffee in one hand, four or five textbooks cooped up in the other. He looked rather stressed… suspiciously stressed out. </p>
<p>Whatever… </p>
<p>I came to my senses – stretched my arms out, yawned, rubbed the sleep from eyes and grimaced at the sharp jolt in my back. I hated napping on the couch – it did nothing for my posture and instead insisted on pestering me throughout the day. I just hoped the pain went away for the exam tomorrow. Lord knows sitting in those stuffy and back-breaking seats were enough for an hour and half exam – throw a sore muscle in the mix and it is a recipe for disaster. </p>
<p>Like most mornings, my mind can only go to one place. What was he doing? How is he? What was he wearing? </p>
<p>I just wanted to see him. I wanted to check up on him, let him know what a mistake I have made by even being a part of my family and wrap him in my arms and never let go. </p>
<p>Although, he has already made it clear. I lacked the balls to do that. </p>
<p>Oh to be strong-willed like the protagonists I so often am drawn to. I’ll never be them… it makes admiring them from a different century poetic. </p>
<p>I dart my eyes back to Liam once more who was pacing about the kitchen by the toaster. He had the butter laid out in front of him rather messily, the milk carton without a lid and a jar of jam not put back in the fridge. Between us, I was easily the least tidy. Even preparing for meals, he always put things away. </p>
<p>It was hard not to pay attention to his hair, gelled back and clean off his face, his reading glasses perched atop the bridge of his nose and the tightness of his school uniform to his body. The red and yellow striped woolen vest was tucked firmly into his navy-blue slacks and held all in place by the matching blazer with the school logo. He had neatly done up his tie and his white dress shirt seemed immaculate. </p>
<p>This is where I felt more confused than usual. This afternoon he had messed about with his uniform, hair and had left his glasses in his laptop case. Something was off. </p>
<p>“Niall?” He whispers, noticing my seated position on the couch. </p>
<p>“Liam.” I murmur, rubbing my eyes intently. The fight we had earlier came to mind. I was above keeping up a grudge. </p>
<p>He seemed to watch me wide-eyed, almost in disbelief. I didn’t even blame him. I guess I had put him through a lot in the past couple of weeks. </p>
<p>“About earlier, I’m sorry. I really am.” I begin as he slowly stalks closer to me. </p>
<p>He continued to stare. </p>
<p>“I know you’re trying to be supportive and I really appreciate that. I guess I’m just missing Zayn and resenting myself for what I did. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me?” He slowly paces off. </p>
<p>“Uh – What?” </p>
<p>“Are you actually kidding?” </p>
<p>“Liam-”</p>
<p>“Look at the time!” He lets out and I squint at the clock on the wall reading 7. </p>
<p>“Huh… oh.” </p>
<p>Holy shit. I don’t think I had ever gotten up faster in my entire life. I had so many things running through my head that I was beginning to lose count. My uniform was all scrunched up on the floor – white shirt creased, tie still knotted from the day before, pants crumpled and vest in a ball. </p>
<p>Why didn’t he wake me? </p>
<p>How the hell did I sleep for that long? I must’ve been down for 14 hours. </p>
<p>I wonder what Zayn has planned for today. </p>
<p>Shut up, I have to tell myself internally. Of all moments for my mind to linger toward the leader of the Damnation… </p>
<p>“You didn’t wake me.” I almost topple over as I try and fish a clean pair of briefs out of the drawer. <br/>“You didn’t…” </p>
<p>I had barely any energy – only enough to dress and control my heartbeat. </p>
<p>“Jesus,” he curses and scrambles to the floor to grab the sad mess of my uniform and lay it out on the bed for me. “I’m sorry. I studied all through the night and crashed at Mark’s at around 4. I basically just got back.” </p>
<p>“Why would you do that to yourself?” I whisper, now doing up my slacks as I lean on the bed. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t know if now is the time to talk about either of our actions last night now anyway.” He was mumbling to himself at this point and as the toaster popped up, he grabbed the freshly browned bread and stuck it straight into his mouth. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe it.” I stare at him as he runs a hand through his gelled hair. “I can’t believe I slept like that and missed out on revising…” </p>
<p>He seemingly didn’t have the time to discuss this. Instead, he watched me in disbelief, inevitably threw my white dress shirt to me and I hastily button it all up. What a mess… </p>
<p>“I can’t believe it either.” He mutters, shaking his head. He continues on his toast and I shove the knotted tie around my neck and simply tighten it – forgoing a new knot and instead adopting this foreign messy look. I throw the vest and blazer on, do anything but worry about tucking my clothes in and ruffle my hair about. </p>
<p>I looked like a right fool. I almost cringed as I watched myself brush my teeth. Nothing looked in order and I didn’t have the capacity to even fix it. </p>
<p>Glancing behind my reflection, I noticed Liam now sitting at the table going over his notes. He still captured the willingness to study and keep going. In all honesty, I had only one thing – or one person on my mind. </p>
<p>I was back to my homeostatic position and took a big deep breath. There I stood in the mirror, a boy who has anticipated this day for his whole life. I looked pathetic. Such a messy tie, uneven collar, disorganized hair and a broken heart stared back at me. My welcome back to consciousness this morning was seemingly non-existent. I went back to the sorrow I lived since that dreaded conversation with my parents. </p>
<p>Perhaps Zayn is better off now. </p>
<p>Oh god… I needed to concentrate. </p>
<p>But what on? </p>
<p>“Shit. I left my notepad at Mark’s. I’m going to have to run and grab it.” He hisses to himself and before I know it the front door is opened and then quickly shut. </p>
<p>The dorm was quiet now. It was just me. </p>
<p>Walking out into the kitchen, I noticed a few things.</p>
<p>My textbooks on the counter, diagrams and hand-written notes in my backpack, a picture of Liam, his parents and myself and mine at a charity dinner last fall and my phone on the table. </p>
<p>I reach for the mobile device and sit myself back on the couch. </p>
<p>Almost as a second nature, I found myself on a popular search engine with the words ‘Bradford News’ typed into the bar. This was a regular routine straight after I met Zayn. Unlike Liam who actually awoke to messages from friends and notifications from the night before, I awoke to nothing but a search I knew I had to make every day to ease my longing for him. </p>
<p>‘A shooting rocks the downtown scene in Bradford…’ </p>
<p>‘Gang rivalries begin to escalate…’ </p>
<p>‘A now confirmed hit-and-run shooting as left one man fighting for life…’ </p>
<p>‘The Damnation and it’s various members are to be considered suspects…’ </p>
<p>The time Zayn and I were together and happy, not a single utter of the gang or his name were mentioned in any news publications. Everything seemed to be calm and I felt at a position where I couldn’t even imagine Zayn or any of the others doing such a thing. Perhaps naively. </p>
<p>God… I just wanted to see him so bad. I wanted to know what went on, if he was okay, if I contributed to it and how I could fix it. I wanted to let him know the truth of how I felt and whether its premature or scared the hell out of him, I wanted to let him know my genuine feelings. </p>
<p>Instead, I’m pocketing my phone, grabbing my bag that I didn’t even pack and exiting out of the dorm room with Liam to an exam I felt so utterly prepared and unprepared for. </p>
<p>To simply kiss him again… that’s all I ask. </p>
<p>The chatter around me is ludicrous when we arrive out the front of the main hall where the exams will commence. The vice-principal had just given us all a pep-talk about our performance and what it means to our legacy here at the academy. Everyone listened intently, well, almost everyone. </p>
<p>A boy was sculling his second energy drink, one almost in tears, another reading his notes as though he were a devout believer to a religious publication, two boys goofing about in the back and another half asleep with his head on his shoulder. </p>
<p>Me? I don’t think I heard a word – I was too busy studying everyone else. </p>
<p>“Okay. Okay I just need to not freak out and I’ll be fine.” Liam looked so utterly ready. He had his reading glasses still perched on his nose, even though he didn’t need them until he got inside. What he was reciting to himself, notes from the chapter 7 index summaries, were correct and clearly a change to how he did yesterday. He was going to do so well and make his family proud. </p>
<p>I wanted to reach in and grab my phone again – just to read one article and see what happened, see what he was up to, see how he felt. There was something inside of me that felt so wrong and dirty just standing here. </p>
<p>As we queued up and got our names checked off the list, phones placed on the table in front of the examiners and ushered to our seats, I felt not a single nerve in my chest. Liam was squeezing the pencil in his fist, staring at the table and rehearsing his notes as if it were poetry. </p>
<p>And as I looked about, the vast majority of students were doing the same. </p>
<p>The headmaster was handing out the exams from the beginning of the line and began to approach where I was situated. I shifted in my seat. </p>
<p>As he places the exam book in front of me and I recollect the words ‘Niall Horan, Advanced Biology Exam, 50 multiple choice questions, 50 short answer questions,’ I felt my stomach recoil. He glanced down at me with a rather coy smile. </p>
<p>“Good luck, Mr. Horan.” He whispers. “Do us all proud.” </p>
<p>This sat even worse in my stomach as he moved onto the next person. </p>
<p>It was all happening so quickly. My parents… Liam… the headmaster… my teachers… I could barely concentrate, my breathing felt short and I wanted to up and run out of here. </p>
<p>What soothed me, however, came in a different form. I found my fingers on my neck, grasping whatever remained of him. Whether that be his touch, kiss or whisper he had left on this part of my body – I’m not quite sure. I just wanted to feel him, feel what I had and no longer feel such a longing. </p>
<p>After what I have had to do, I fully realized one thing. This was knowledge that I could never find in a textbook or academic journal. I didn’t have to research this, nor did I have to get a teacher to map it out for me. All it took was one motorcycle ride, a kiss and an entrance into a soul I never thought I’d come close to. </p>
<p>It made things very clear. </p>
<p>“You have an hour and a half to complete this advanced biology exam – good luck.” </p>
<p>The voice startled me. I gulped. I shifted in my chair and shook my head as though it was going to coax me into focus mode. </p>
<p>I didn’t even have the pencil in my hand. Coughing, page turning and the sound of lead to paper filled my ears and echoed in the hall. </p>
<p>What the hell was I doing? </p>
<p>I had clarity now. I knew what I needed to do. </p>
<p>I loved Zayn. </p>
<p>My conscience didn’t even fight this time. Usually there would be an angel and devil to each shoulder, one pushing me closer to the edge and the other protecting me from even seeing passed it. </p>
<p>I loved Zayn. I love him. I love all of him and I think he needs to know this. </p>
<p>He needs to know this more than I need to do this exam. </p>
<p>Holy goodness. I cannot believe this. My body is just accepting it. My heart refuses to race. My legs refuse to falter. </p>
<p>I slowly get up from my chair and I notice all eyes from the front of the room where the examiners, a few teachers and the headmaster, immediately donate me their gaze. </p>
<p>They seemed awe-struck, as though they had seen a ghost – perhaps they had. </p>
<p>I turn on my heel, ignoring the adrenaline pumping through my chest and head out to the corridor. </p>
<p>“I’m okay. I can do this.” I keep trying to reassure myself in hope that I don’t just run back and reclaim my seat and the life I was expecting to bring in for myself. If this is what I was doing and Zayn would take me back, then I couldn’t turn back from this. I would never be able to recover this strain of my identity. </p>
<p>There was murmuring and mumbling… small chatter and footsteps and it lit a fire underneath me. When I located my phone on the table, I snatched it up and practically sprinted out into the empty courtyard and campus. The air was fresh, my legs were ready and raring to go and I ran with all of the energy I could conjure. </p>
<p>My chest was rising and falling exponentially, and the rest felt like such a blur. This felt… right. My whole life, I felt as though I was going through the motions. I had to fill in the blank, know all the right answers and spend my whole life studying for an hour and half exam that wouldn’t even count toward a university placement – my parents would have gotten me in either way. I felt cheated. </p>
<p>Instead, I knew in my heart of hearts to follow the one thing that made me feel alive. </p>
<p>I had to find him. </p>
<p>“Oh gosh…” I lean my palms on my knees, so tired from all of the running until I spot a bus across the road, outside of the gates. I was back on the pursuit until I was inside the vehicle. I didn’t even read where it was going – I don’t think I had the mental capacity or comprehension to. Instead, I throw myself into the closest seat and only look forward at the road ahead of me. </p>
<p>My phone wouldn’t cease to buzz in my pocket. I knew to ignore it. In the entirety of this mess, I found myself smiling. </p>
<p>So when I notice the bus slow down around the main street of downtown Bradford, my stomach was doing flips. When the man pulled over, I thanked him, handed him over whatever change I could muster and left. I wasn’t so naïve to not notice the police presence on the roads, so I kept a low profile and held my head down. I was only a few yards away – I could see the bar and knew all of the stores leading up to it off by heart. </p>
<p>Not many bikes were parked out the front… they must be down the side alley.</p>
<p>I just couldn’t wait to see him. </p>
<p>As I approached the door of the bar, I knew this was the one chance I had to make things right for Zayn and right for myself. I wanted to be happy – he wanted me to be happy. This is how it had to be. </p>
<p>“Okay. Come on.” I murmur to myself, shake my head and push open the bar to find it utterly empty. </p>
<p>I felt everything inside of me drop. Where was he? Where were the others? </p>
<p>Some whistling alerts my senses and I gulp as the clubroom door opens. Again, I am disappointed. No Zayn. Only… </p>
<p>“Oh my god,” He chuckles loudly, pointing a finger at me from across the room. “The nerve you have showing your face around here!” </p>
<p>“Harry… Where’s Zayn?” I pace toward him, feeling utterly dry in my throat as though I had run a mile. </p>
<p>“Nice uniform.” He snorts as he looks me up and down. I choose to ignore it. </p>
<p>“Where’s Zayn? I-I need to see him. I need to see him right away.” </p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow and chuckles while he brushes passed me and behind the bar. </p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Why? What do you mean why? I need to see him.” </p>
<p>He just tilts his head to the side, that deviant smirk to his lips. He grabs one of the pint glasses and gives it a wipe with a dish towel. He seemed to be cleaning up the place. </p>
<p>“I thought you wanted nothing to do with him.” </p>
<p>“I’ve changed my mind.” I shake my head firmly, stalking to the closest bar stool. “I’m ready now. I’m ready to see him – just tell me where to find him.” </p>
<p>“I will do no such thing.” He scoffs, that stubborn aura to him. Ugh… </p>
<p>“Please.” I was basically begging at this point. </p>
<p>“Not many of us saw the appeal, but you’ve really fucked him up. Angriest we’ve seen him in a while.” He clicks, as though this whole thing was a big joke. </p>
<p>“I know. I’m just so sorry.” I murmur, taking a seat at the bar. “I messed up. I messed up hard. I need to find him and apologise.” </p>
<p>“That’s if he isn’t in bed with someone else.” He chuckles and I squint my eyes at him until he drops it. </p>
<p>“Look Blondie, I want to help you – I really do.” He sighs. “My hands are tied right now. Malik ain’t even in town.” </p>
<p>“Well… Where is he?” </p>
<p>“Queensbury – with the rest of the gang.” </p>
<p>I blinked twice. </p>
<p>“Why?” I utter out, knowing it was about two- and a-bit hours away from here. I had only heard of it from the news. It seemed to have an even higher crime rate than Bradford. </p>
<p>“Well if you haven’t already noticed,” he motions his head toward the window where two police officers were patrolling the streets. “It’s a bit tense down here. We’re just hiding out until it dies down.” </p>
<p>“Is this about the shooting that was on the news?” </p>
<p>“Yes, it was.” He hums as though it were the most casual thing in the world. </p>
<p>“And Zayn… He’s okay?” </p>
<p>“Pretty sure.” He chuckles. “I mean, usually the guy who pulls the trigger isn’t the one who gets hurt.” </p>
<p>“H-He shot someone?” </p>
<p>“Yeah.” He presses a shoulder forward and as my face drops, I see him chuckle once more. </p>
<p>“It’s not because you dumped him either – the bastard had it coming. It would’ve happened even if you played happy couple with him a little longer.” </p>
<p>“Oh.” It felt wrong to feel so relieved by this… at least he was okay. </p>
<p>“There’s a house up there where we stay once in a while.” He bites his lip. “That’s where they all are.” </p>
<p>“Then why are you here?” </p>
<p>“Well, I have a few things to clean up around here for them.” He ushers to the pile of dishes in the sink. “And I need to make a few calls, get a few supplies. I’m driving up tonight.” </p>
<p>“Tonight? Really? Can I come?” </p>
<p>He lets out a breathy chuckle. </p>
<p>“Why? You’re meant to be at school. You’ve already chosen that this life isn’t for you and that he isn’t for you.” </p>
<p>“Harry,” I mutter, glancing down at my lap as I feel my phone buzz once more, “I just ran out on one of the most important exams of my life. I’m done with that. I’m done with pleasing everyone else – it’s about time I put myself first.” </p>
<p>He watches me expectantly. </p>
<p>“You ran out on an exam?” </p>
<p>“Yes. I’m meant to be in biology right now. My phone won’t stop ringing and I won’t answer.” </p>
<p>“Gee.” He huffs to himself, leaning on the bar with disbelieving eyes. “I didn’t think you’d do that. That’s a really big deal.” </p>
<p>“I don’t care.” I shake my head firmly. “I only want to see Zayn.” </p>
<p>He pauses, bites his lip, runs a hand through his hair and grunts. </p>
<p>“Here,” he throws me a white dish towel. “Help me out today and I’ll drive us up this afternoon.” </p>
<p>“Really?” I couldn’t help but grin and grasp the towel so graciously. “Thank you Harry!” </p>
<p>“Don’t get ahead of yourself – you look like you haven’t worked a single day in your life.” He snorts once more. “You need to keep up if you want me to drive you.” </p>
<p>I don’t reply in words. I stand to my feet and walk around the bar to help him wash the waiting pile of dishes. </p>
<p>Harry advised me to turn my phone off and focus on what we were meant to do. Zayn had him cleaning the dishes, sorting through some papers he didn’t quite let me peak at, and sweeping the floors. Eventually, he said he had other business to attend to around Bradford and he left me to continue the cleaning spree in the bar. I did so diligently; probably because I couldn’t allow myself to properly sit down and give thought to my actions. </p>
<p>My mind worked better blank. </p>
<p>He really did take his time. I wondered what he had to do. Through small conversation, he did mention that apprentices had to work for a position in the gang – whether that be through small jobs or bringing the higher ups a cigarette or drink. While I wanted to sympathize for him, I stopped to wonder whether all of this work he endured was worth a spot in a gang. I didn’t mention it though. </p>
<p>He kept trying to assure me, however, that Louis was so close to convincing Zayn to give him a jacket. He joked that if we worked things out, I could get in his ear and convince him also. With the help Harry was providing me with, I knew that I could try my best to pay back the favor. </p>
<p>I had finished everything about an hour before he even got back. The clock was nearing six and it meant I had sat in the bar alone for five hours while he was who-knows-where. When he came strolling back into the bar, I couldn’t help but notice the change of clothes he had on. From the thin white t-shirt he was sporting earlier, he now wore a baggy black hoodie and jeans, a helmet under one wing, a bag under the other. I didn’t even want to ask what was in there. </p>
<p>“Where were you?” I practically scoff, bored out of my mind. </p>
<p>“I had to get dressed, chill.” He chuckles. </p>
<p>“Does that take five hours?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” He huffs back. “How did you go cleaning under the cupboards in the bathroom?” </p>
<p>“Fine.” I quickly dismiss it. </p>
<p>“Fine…? You didn’t find anything too gross, did you?” He leans an arm over one of the seats. “You should’ve seen what Damien threw up in that sink one time. It even spilt right into the cupboard and it has never been cleaned-”</p>
<p>“Okay.” I snap, shaking the gross thought out of my mind. “Are you ready to leave yet?” </p>
<p>He huffs. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Come on, Blondie. I grabbed you a spare helmet.” He throws the one in his hand in my direction and I grasp it hastily. </p>
<p>“Thank you.” I huff and I duck my head to follow him out of the door and around into the alleyway where his bike was parked. It felt odd being the passenger on a motorcycle not belonging to Zayn. I almost recoiled reaching around Harry’s very thin waist to hold onto him and he seemed to find fun in that. This was going to be a long two and half hour ride. </p>
<p>He rode very similarly to Zayn. I always thought he went a little too fast, ran an odd stop-sign and came very close to speeding through a red light. He was quite good on the bike. I couldn’t quite measure what qualified as good bike riding – but considering Zayn was the leader of the gang and presumably best at it, Harry seemed to be quite close to reaching that level. </p>
<p>We stopped for some gas, grabbed a sandwich at the petrol station and the anticipation just continued to eat me up as we neared Queensbury. </p>
<p>I wanted to know what Zayn would think of me. He must think I’m the craziest, most impulsive person in the world. And I am. </p>
<p>The sky began to darken and when we arrived in the Queensbury township, I couldn’t help but hold Harry that little bit tighter. There were a few bars littered about, hordes of motorcycles and black SUVs parked in front of them – differing gangs I imagined. We were in a different territory here. </p>
<p>I just wanted to know where Zayn was. I needed to see him. </p>
<p>Harry turns down a side street and pulls down an alleyway right by a bottle shop. He did mention that they were staying in a house up here – I was confused as to why we had stopped again. </p>
<p>I watch as he hops off the bike, removes his helmet and stretches his legs about. </p>
<p>“Are we…” I trail off, hearing the large chatter, yelling and roaring from around the corner. “Are we here?” </p>
<p>“Ah… yeah.” He hums, always with that tinge of suspicion to his tone. I never knew when to trust him. “We’re here alright.” </p>
<p>I gulp, hearing the noise get a little louder. It sounded like there were more people than those in Zayn’s gang – perhaps quadruple that. It felt like I was nearing a football game. </p>
<p>Harry’s eyes travel to mine, he seemed to dial it down a notch and return to the submissive role he portrayed in the gang and no longer preached hegemony over me. He dropped the sarcasm, bit his lip and edged a little closer to me. </p>
<p>“Word of advice,” he whispers, reaching forward and pulling my blazer off. “Take off the striped vest. You don’t want these people to know who you are or what school you go to.” </p>
<p>“Huh?” I didn’t even want to fight it. I removed my yellow and red woolen vest and held it in my hand with my blazer. I loosened my tie and scuffed my hair up. I didn’t have time to ask questions and it seemed that Harry didn’t want to answer them. </p>
<p>“Don’t look anyone in the eye for too long. Stick close to me or one of the boys and you’ll be fine. First, we find Tomlinson.” He nods firmly enticing me to gape. Where the hell were we? Who was around the corner? </p>
<p>We slowly trail around. Harry had a certain formality to his walk, as though he was trying to fit in, when I knew good and well that he wasn’t nearly as hard as some of the scary people I had seen in my time in downtown Bradford. </p>
<p>But this… This was different. </p>
<p>In the middle of a courtyard, a make-shift boxing ring. People – either in jackets or otherwise – were yelling and hollering as they watched a fight go on. There were fires in trash cans, a bar out the back of a pick-up truck and those that weren’t watching the fight were scathing portraits of fear incarnate. Like Zayn’s bar and Declan’s nightclub, there were women rampant everywhere. All were fraternizing with the men I’m sure belonged to differing gangs. It was utterly confronting, and I used all of my willpower to hide behind Harry’s broad shoulders. </p>
<p>“This is Warden’s Row.” He turns to face me. “It’s very underground… so don’t tell your friends.” </p>
<p>The wink he sent me certainly didn’t reassure any part of this. </p>
<p>He continues on, me hot on his trail. I could tell he was looking for Louis. He seemed to soften when he spoke of him. His eyes were almost desperate to seek him. As much as I wanted to look for Zayn, I knew sticking to one target would be best. </p>
<p>Please don’t go any closer… Please don’t go any closer… </p>
<p>“Oh great.” I mutter to myself as Harry shoves himself through the hordes of men surrounding the ring where I’m assuming the fight was happening. Some had cash in their hands – ah, a betting sport – while others were drinking up the entertainment value of it all. </p>
<p>“Fuck that blue-eyed prick up!” I flinch at the man closest to me who was yelling slurs at one of the fighters I refused to look up at yet. </p>
<p>“Oh god,” Harry mutters from beside me. I’m sure it was only projected to himself but even with the crowd of men we were amongst, I heard. I needed to know what he had drawn his attention to. </p>
<p>The crowd roars once more, a turn of events, I take. </p>
<p>“He’s going to do it! It’s gonna’ be a knockout!” </p>
<p>“Tomlinson! Tomlinson! Tomlinson!” </p>
<p>“Fucking hell!” Harry curses beside me and my stomach drops as I edge closest to the ring to see Louis in only a pair of jeans and boots, blood out of the corner of his mouth, pounding his fist over and over into another man’s face. He had him on the ground, trapped in a straddle hold and my eyes widened. </p>
<p>His back tensed and relaxed… tensed and relaxed… The large back tattoo was animated by the movement and it was very clear that the fight was nearly over. Oh no… I didn’t want to face Louis after the warning he gave me the last time I had seen him and I didn’t want to see what would happen with the clear anger he was exuding into another man’s face.</p>
<p>“Finish it!” Harry yells from beside me, fully getting into the sport. I can only glare at him out of the corner of my eye and gulp at the final seconds of the fight. </p>
<p>The man on the ground taps the floor and almost immediately in a strangely sportsmanlike manner, Louis stops punching and pulls his body away. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, despite the bloody mess beneath him and busted lip he was sporting. He held his wrapped hands in the air, celebrating his victory and while some booed and shouted their disdain, the vast majority – those I assume bet on Louis to win – were cheering and clapping. </p>
<p>“Louis!” I hear Harry call to him as he reaches forward and taps on the floor of the ring. I backed away as I noticed Zayn’s best friend and right-hand man send a large grin Harry’s way and hop out of the ring to see him. I backed so far away that I knocked into a larger man with a boulder sized chest and big grey beard. He glares down at me and I know to scurry off and out of the crowd. </p>
<p>I didn’t even realize how stained my white dress shirt had become just by being amongst that crowd. I shuddered and took a large breath to finally be away from it. </p>
<p>I had spotted one Damnation jacket – Damien, whose vomit I had cleaned up in the bathroom back in the bar, but still no sign of Zayn. He had to be here somewhere. I was so desperate to see him. </p>
<p>Wandering eyes landed back on Louis and Harry – a strange sight this time. A few men rubbed Louis’ head with glee, and they sauntered out of the crowd. My gaze immediately drew itself to the subtle hand the elder had on Harry’s waist. It didn’t feel quite as platonic as what I once thought it was. There was definitely something going on there and if the darting eyes of one Harry Styles meant anything, I knew that this was to be kept on the downlow. </p>
<p>They hadn’t noticed my presence yet – there was just so much going on. Harry leans forward, whispers something in his ear and when his face drops, I felt my stomach do the same. </p>
<p>“What have I done…” I whisper to myself, backing away again as I notice his blue eyes spot mine in the crowd. He began to stalk toward me, Harry following closely. </p>
<p>I just about crapped myself. Putting each and every one of his gold rings upon his fingers, I noticed his busted knuckles sloppily wrapped in white bandages for the fight, his bare chest was tanned and littered with tattoos, his hair was tousled out of his face and all he expressed through a bloody lip and busted eyebrow, was pure resentment toward me. </p>
<p>“What the fuck are you doing here?” He spits, grazing me up and down. I kept backing away. “You made one promise to me. One single promise.” </p>
<p>“Louis, I can explain-”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to explain shit.” He grunts to me. “That’s always how it is with you entitled little pompous pricks. You do what you please so long as it doesn’t affect you.” </p>
<p>“Tomlinson, slow down.” Harry places a hand on his chest. “He’s here for Malik.” </p>
<p>“You’re here for Malik?” He chuckles manically and I gulp at the darkness still in his eyes. The blood on his fists irked me and I questioned whether they would be connecting to my head anytime soon. “He doesn’t want to see you. You’re not welcome anywhere this gang is.” </p>
<p>“I’m here to apologize – I made a dumb mistake-”</p>
<p>“No, a dumb mistake is bringing that stupid lawyer into my bar. That’s a dumb mistake.” He begins. “Doing what you did to my brother and then showing your face here? That’s just plain stupidity.” </p>
<p>I dart my eyes between Harry and Louis expectantly. Harry had sighed and was watching me as though he agreed with every syllable that the older of the two did. I didn’t even blame them.</p>
<p>“It looks bad I know and I did wrong him – but I’m finished with that life now. I’m here for Zayn.” </p>
<p>He takes one step closer to me, to the point where I can smell the blood and alcohol on his breath. </p>
<p>“You’re not here for Zayn. You’ve never been there for him.” </p>
<p>I can only stare back at him and the darkness he held. This felt like a mistake – it all did. I felt banished by the old life and banished by the new life I so desperately was trying to obtain for myself. </p>
<p>“There’s nothing that you can do that can stop me from seeing him.” I whisper, eyes I’m sure burning with tears. </p>
<p>He smirks and shakes his head at me. </p>
<p>“It’s a nice act, Blondie.” He rakes his eyes up and down my entire body. “You look cute, you look sweet… you’re just the same selfish whore Malik fucks with all the time. I’m over it by now.” </p>
<p>I swallow the non-existent saliva in my mouth and feel all of the weight on my shoulders practically concave. This day felt like a marathon. I had ever felt such guilt, such heartache and such longing for someone who I just knew resented to me. </p>
<p>My eyes meet Harry’s and while I did see a glimpse of sympathy from him, he obviously and rightfully adopted Louis’ glare and anger. </p>
<p>I felt so close to giving it all up. </p>
<p>“Hit the road.” Louis dismisses me. “If I look back and you haven’t caught the next bus out of town, I’ll have to do to you what I just did in that ring-”</p>
<p>“Do that and I’ll kill you, Tomlinson.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do that and I’ll kill you, Tomlinson.” </p><p>Just hearing his voice, I felt secure. The strength, which had left my body about a minute prior, still entrapped me to face Harry and Louis. But my heart… it sang. </p><p>It didn’t give anything away. For all I knew, he still hated me – very justly – and just wanted to calm Louis down. But I just appreciated being in his presence. The days apart, knowing we couldn’t be together, were agony as I tried to think of anything but his deep eyes and the way he kissed me. </p><p>Now, I needed clarity. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Louis wipes his mouth, a drop of blood meeting the dirtied bandages around his right fist. “He went and did what he did-”</p><p>“I don’t care.” Zayn sounded calm. Stern… but calm. It was frightening. “You touch him, you know what happens to you.” </p><p>Louis scoffs at the ground and shakes his head. </p><p>“This is typical of you, Malik.” He begins, eyes dark and terrifying. “You push the gang away… push me away… all to get in this rich snob’s pants. It’s pathetic.” </p><p>Harry widens his eyes slightly before diverting his gaze straight at the ground. Even I felt like doing so. </p><p>If the silence of the man behind me meant anything, I knew to keep my eyes peeled at Louis in front of me – who looked as though he was now seething. </p><p>“You’re drunk.” He mutters out. “You need to leave.” </p><p>“Think about what you’re doing right now.” Louis points a finger at him so harsh and sloppy – while Zayn remained reserved. Each man held such contempt, Louis just seemed so forward about it. “We’ve questioned your leadership before and we’ll do it again, Malik.” </p><p>I felt utterly guilty that this was a conversation I had brought on. To do this to Zayn was one thing, cross Louis another… but to involve anything to do with the gang, it just felt dirty. I needed to intervene but to quote the man I loved, lacked the balls to do so. </p><p>“I’m thinking.” Zayn utters, each word and syllable falling off his tongue as though they were silk. “I’m thinking that if you question me, I will put back where you came from.” </p><p>Louis’ eyes dropped momentarily but hardened again to reassume his broad position. </p><p>“You’re really doing this for him?” He lets out bitterly, recoiling to the ground. “That’s what it is, huh?” </p><p>“That’s what it is.” </p><p>Louis’ eyes meet mine, he shakes his head, glances at Zayn, glances at Harry and turns on his heel to leave. He was in such a hurry, so determined and fractured that the guilt and pain he exuded soon transferred to my own heart. I would rather sit at home with heartache than entice this sort of fight. I heard nothing but closeness regarding their relationship… I felt horrible. </p><p>Harry quickly shuffles to follow him. </p><p>“Styles.” Zayn grunts, still out of my eyesight. I felt as though I were in detention right now, and if I made eye contact with the man I came to see, I was afraid I would cave. </p><p>The boy who had driven me here pauses and glances at his leader. </p><p>“What the hell is he doing here?” </p><p>I allowed the fight to happen between him and Louis, I couldn’t let Harry find himself caught in the crossfire. </p><p>“I asked him to drive me.” </p><p>As I turn to face him, I am met with so many emotions. I wanted him to smile, needed him to show that he was okay. His eyes seemed darker, a little tired, hair more scuffed back than gelled and a white tank-top that was creeping down his chest. He seemed to analyse me the same. I gulped. </p><p>“What the hell is he doing here?” He repeats to the apprentice and rips his eyes from my body. </p><p>“He showed up at the bar.” Harry murmurs, ushering a hand over to me. “And asked me to take him to you.” </p><p>Zayn’s glares back down at me. </p><p>“You shouldn’t be here.” </p><p>“Well I’m here.” I hit back. “What are you going to do about it?” </p><p>“I’m going to get Tomlinson before he does something stupid. Sorry, Malik.” And with that, Harry slips away – whether Zayn wanted him to or not. </p><p>I wanted this reunion to be everything I imagined it to be – I’d fall back in his arms; we’d forget everything, and we’d make up for everything we didn’t get to do. Already, I had snapped at him. Gosh Niall… You never cease to disappoint. </p><p>“What are you doing here?” He watched me so darkly and my ears decided to cancel out the yelling and hollering as I presume somebody new entered the ring. </p><p>“I came to see you.” I huff, crossing my arms to shield the openness of my position. </p><p>“You can’t be somewhere like this.” He takes a step closer toward me and oh god, did I want to shut that gap and hold him. “You can’t let these people see you.” </p><p>“I don’t care.” I shake my head. “I’ve needed to see you.” </p><p>He pauses and looks behind and beside me. </p><p>“Come with me.” </p><p>I refuse to move. </p><p>“Where are you taking me?” </p><p>“Back to your dorm – you’re going back.” He mutters, reaching forward to grab my wrist. I snatch it away immediately. </p><p>“I’m not going back.” I let him know firmly. “I’m done there. It’s over. Take me somewhere else.” </p><p>He can only stare back at me. </p><p>“Come with me.” He holds his hand out to me once more and I bite my lip. </p><p>“Are you taking me home?” </p><p>He seemed to crack a small close-mouthed smile and shook his head. I clasp my hand in his. </p><p>“Not yet, anyway.” </p><p>I glare at him and he pulls me along, hopefully very far away from this place. I can only stare at our hands together as we go along – all interest in the illegal street fight that I only thought existed in films dropped – besides, I really wanted to avoid eye contact with Harry and Louis after that fight. </p><p>He leads me around the corner, and I have to recoil watching a man pinning a woman up against the wall, lips on her neck and her head thrown back in pleasure. Disgusting… I can’t believe the place I am in right now. Queensbury… no wonder my parents never took me here. </p><p>I just hoped they weren’t… </p><p>Oh god, they probably are – I see movement! </p><p>Zayn seemed so casual about ignoring it and I knew I had to be mature and do the same. He walks us out of the alleyway and into the streets. Albeit fairly empty, the hordes of motorcycles parked here left no illusion to the naked eye that something was going on.</p><p>His bike was parked about 10 yards away and I sighed in relief. I truly couldn’t wait to get on the back of it again… perhaps reliving this feeling could be euphoric. </p><p>“Put the helmet on.” The energy felt off. He seemed very distant, despite my hand in his, and I felt horrible knowing the reason why. I just hoped that I had tonight to let him know what my feelings were. </p><p>I hike my vest and blazer back on, clip the helmet around my chin and fail to the back of the bike. As he slipped in front of me, I knew to hold him tightly. Perhaps in hopes to never let go. </p><p>We soon arrived about three streets away to another main junction. In all honesty, I was disappointed that I had to forgo the comfort of his embrace and actually go somewhere, but I felt grateful that he didn’t trick me and drive me straight home – that seemed like something he’d do. </p><p>He slides off without waiting for me and pulls a cigarette rather desperately from his pocket. Flicking his eyes down to me, he surely notices my stare and places it in his mouth. Just taking in everything… I think the emotional distance between us made my attraction for him sky-rocket. He only wore a white singlet top, ripped blue jeans and those boots that made me swoon, and yet I felt something a little different; a little deeper. </p><p>I knew I had to stop watching him like a crazy person and hopped off the bike, removed the helmet easily from so much practice – all to the sound of him lighting his cigarette and inhaling its contents. </p><p>He reaches past me and grabs his jacket from beneath his seat while keeping his smoke clasped firmly between his teeth. I think he knew what he did to me by smoking. </p><p>“Go in.” He mutters after his jacket is firmly encompassing all of him. “I need to finish my smoke. I’ll meet you there.” </p><p>I glance at the pub he had brought me to and step away from him. He nods, I nod. I turn on my heel, missing him so in the process and enter the rather run-down restaurant that I’m sure only got business from local gangs and passer-byers. There was seemingly no table service, nor somebody to meet me at the door. I guess I had to find us a table on my own. </p><p>When I decided on a table for two by the door, I couldn’t ignore the rumble in my stomach and nervousness in my chest. I didn’t know what Zayn had to say to me. I didn’t know if this was probably the biggest mistake of my life and I’d miscalculated our connection so much that I have thrown away my future by walking out on that exam… </p><p>Oh god, don’t think about. </p><p>I could only play around with my napkin for so long and time seemed to drawl out. He usually took about two minutes to smoke a cigarette – of course, he did that inside the booth at the bar. I forgot he couldn’t smoke in places he didn’t own. </p><p>“Pull yourself together.” I mutter to myself and shake my head. My phone felt like dead weight in my pocket. I had it switched off for the vast majority of the day and I truly couldn’t imagine the dumpster fire I would face if I turned it back on. I can’t afford to think about it. I had to think about my wants, not another’s. </p><p>And what I wanted, was sternly walking through the door. </p><p>I clear my throat and sit a little straighter as he takes the seat across from me. He looks me up and down once and stares extra hard at the school emblem sewn into my blazer. I must’ve looked a fool. </p><p>“What are you doing, Blondie?” He sighs, tilting his head to the side at me. I wanted him to show more emotion than that. I stuffed up – I truly did and he showed not even a shred of anger, confusion or even heartache. Perhaps he was more over it than I thought. </p><p>“I’m seeing you.” That thought alone was enough to drop my spirits and I began to ponder and reflect on the mistake I knew I had made. </p><p>He doesn’t reply verbally or physically – his face is the same. I wanted – no, needed – so much more than this. </p><p>“You must hate me.” I sigh to my lap. “Don’t worry. I hate me too. I’ve made so many mistakes.” </p><p>Again, nothing. I had my fists clenched underneath the table in hopes to humanize myself. Otherwise, I’d be afraid of turning into a giant scathing mess. </p><p>I had to conjure up something to say – something that would maybe get his attention. He knew what he was doing by sitting there and staring, knowing my situation and knowing what his stare did to me. </p><p>All I saw in front of me was the mistake I had made and now I had to live with its repercussions. </p><p>“Zayn I…” I didn’t even know what to say to him. It really didn’t help that he refused to speak and simply stared back at me with those stupid deep eyes. I wanted to run away – I’m not sure where either. I’m sure my parents had formally cut all cords and I had no ride back home. Perhaps I had to hitch-hike home. My bank account was most likely frozen. Lord knows how well I’d do at that. </p><p>“I’m sorry I came.” I shake my head, the shrill of anxiety and typical self-pity – although heightened to such an extreme – urges me to leave. “I’m a stupid boy. I will leave-”</p><p>He reaches across the able and grabs my wrist. I pause and shift my weight back to the chair. I hardly wanted to hear what he had to say, I was too fearful of what was to come. </p><p>“Sit down.” He says so very simply. I obey. </p><p>Biting my lip and tilting my head to the side to avoid tears seemed to be my only coping mechanism here. </p><p>“I’ve been kicking myself about this, I’ve messed up-”</p><p>“Stop talking.” He grunts, immediately silencing me. </p><p>I do nothing but look to my mangled hands on my lap. They were sweaty, fingers entangled between each other and I kept pinching parts of my palm in hopes to distract myself from what was to come. </p><p>“What are you doing in Queensbury, Niall?” He gets out, leaning back in his seat. “You shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be somewhere where other gangs can see you with me.”</p><p>I gulp and raise my glance up at him. </p><p>“I came to see you.” It was weak and crackled. </p><p>“I said to stop talking.” He hits back, calm and smooth – the same tone he used to Louis. </p><p>“Okay.” I whisper back at my lap. </p><p>No emotion, how surprising. I wanted things back to normal. I wanted to go back to the time where I’d practically be sat atop his lap whenever we’d be together and he would shower me with love, his full attention and affection. Here, he sat across from me with reasonable contempt and uncertainty that truly instilled fear within.  </p><p>“You know,” he folds his arms over and leans them on the table, “you really did something to me, that night.”</p><p>“I’m not sure whether I had drunk too much or what… but when you said you were leaving me, and you couldn’t do it – I don’t know.” He murmured, slightly out of character for the usual stoic and hardened gang leader I often saw. “Something just snapped inside of me. I’ve never felt that before.” </p><p>I curl my lip under and fully take in the vulnerability of his words shielded by the hard-edged position he was sitting in. He had never seemed so distant… and he had never seemed so open. </p><p>“I want three things in this world. I want power, a legacy and whatever the hell gets me that – Tomlinson, whiskey, my Harley… they seem to help.” He mutters, pressing a finger to his temple. “And when you… you chose them. I think my dream disappeared.” </p><p>God, I wanted to intersect and not hold my tongue. He couldn’t say this and expect me to say nothing else – even if I couldn’t even articulate a proper response. </p><p>“You’re just… just a prick, Niall.” </p><p>Okay. I didn’t care about following his orders.</p><p>“I said I am sorry.” I snap, letting my hands fall to my side and in a position of true and unedited vulnerability. “I know that all of this is clearly very warranted and deserved – a week ago, Louis yelling all that at me would’ve made me cry but… but I know why he did. It was a dumb thing I did.” </p><p>He cracks a small smile. </p><p>“I’m 18, right?” I hum. “Legally, I am an adult and I can make my own decisions?” </p><p>“I guess you can.” </p><p>“Then I’ve made one. I want to be with you.” By pressing a shoulder forward, I can tell he was either amused or completely over this sort of whining. Nevertheless, I continue. “Unless you don’t want to be with me, I don’t see the problem.” </p><p>“Look at you, standing up for yourself.” He grazes his eyes up and down my torso. </p><p>“You do… You do still want to be with me, right?” It was so desperate, and yet I felt its necessity. I clearly had no clue what was coursing through his mind despite the words he had said. </p><p>He pauses and looks to his lap. I felt my heart in my throat. </p><p>“Because if you don’t… it’s fine.” I had to do some damage control. He probably hated me and everything I stood for. Classism was big in Bradford and I clearly chose to appease that than to actually end up with somebody I was falling in love with. Very selfish, of course, but in all honesty, it is nothing short of the typical behavior from the son of old money socialite Maura and stuffy lawyer turned businessman Bobby. I knew that one day I would have to inherit something from them… except in this instance, I expected to inherit their liquid assets - not their inability to follow passion and draw outside of the lines. Zayn’s face said it all and I had to take it under my wing and work out exactly what to do. Perhaps I should swallow my pride, turn my phone on, call my parents and apologize-</p><p>Glancing down at the hand holding mine I smile. Not so much out of happiness, more so relief. Just to feel him envelop my touch, squeeze a little harder than usual and reassure me with his eyes that this is the same man who held me in high regard just last week, I knew that this wasn’t quite lost yet. </p><p>“You’re meant to be in an exam today.” He trails off, head tilted to the side. “And you have English tomorrow, right?” </p><p>I sigh at two things. It filled me up with joy that he even remembered my timetable and that whole section of my world… and yet I failed with dread at all of the consequences of what I did today. I was taking the ultimate plunge in Zayn and I just knew, if he was on board as much as I was, that it would take off on its own. </p><p>“I walked out.” I press a shoulder forward, squeezing his hand. “Don’t think I even wrote my name.” </p><p>“Niall-”</p><p>“I don’t need a lecture.” I cut him off, tilting my head to the side. “I mean, my phone has been going berserk all day and I’m sure my parents have already put me on the back of a milk carton. I know what I did… It’s actually the first real choice I have ever made for myself.” </p><p>“I wasn’t going to lecture you.” He lets out. “It means… it means everything that you’d do that. I just need to know that you’re okay. It must’ve been rough.” </p><p>“Really?” It was almost a squeak. </p><p>“Blondie, all I care about is your happiness.” </p><p>“It was probably the easiest decision I have made in a while.” I murmur. “As soon as I sat down in that exam seat, I thought of you. And for somebody who has literally imagined my exams from the moment I knew of them, that just showed me that it was over. I couldn’t commit to that.” </p><p>“So now you’ve cut those ties, what do you want from me?” It was a genuine and legitimate question.</p><p>“Whatever you can give.” I huff.</p><p>He glances behind him at the empty restaurant and meets my gaze once more. </p><p>“I don’t think we’re going to get served here.” He lets out. “Do you want to grab some food where I’m staying?” </p><p>I blink a few times. I couldn’t be so naïve that going to see Zayn in a town two and a half hours away from my dorm, with him on the run from the authorities in Bradford and I on the run from my parents, that we wouldn’t be sharing a room or spending the night together. But the idea sure was invigorating. </p><p>“Uh yeah…” I let out and watch as he immediately stands and walks his way around to where I was sitting. I can only glance up at him, eyes I’m sure doe-like, and reach for his hand. </p><p>“I’m not staying too far away from here. Are you sure that’s not a problem?” I can only shake my head at this. </p><p>With my hand in his and the reassurance I had once lost and now gained, we mounted his bike and flew into the darkening night to a place I had absolutely no idea existed and yet anticipated from the moment I first kissed him. </p><p>I’m not sure what I expected when we arrived at a run-down highway motel with around five motorcycles taking occupancy of the car-park. This may have been a place I’d never find myself, but I didn’t care. It was so exciting. I loved staying away from home and to be with Zayn, it made an inevitable situation that the more exciting. </p><p>“Here we are,” he murmurs, still as quiet and reserved from dinner – I knew we still had so much to talk about – and he fuddles with a keycard to enter the room. </p><p>It was utterly simple; I’m sure used only for convenience. A double bed with some generic floral bedsheets, a desk, beige couch and television. Mostly unscathed, the only thing that showed Zayn’s existence here was the black duffle bag on the ground partly unzipped. Walking in, I felt all of the pressure of the world leave itself on the other side of this door. </p><p>For the first time in my life, I felt like an equal part of an equation. In my dorm, I felt like Liam Payne’s roommate, that ‘smart kid’ who everyone though cheated on tests. At home, I felt like Maura and Bobby’s son – the one that does good at school and looks good enough in the family Christmas cards. Here, I was Niall and the man who stepped into the room behind me was Zayn. </p><p>“It’s not five star.” He huffs, scratching behind his head. “But for now, it’s all we’ve got until things die down in Bradford.” </p><p>I turn on my heel and raise an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“So Harry has informed me.” </p><p>He smirks and peels his leather jacket off and to the ground. I could stand here all day and ogle the way he looked in a white singlet that exposed almost every part of his torso and arms, I knew to meet his eyeline. </p><p>“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Blondie.” He whispers, so close to my face that I wanted nothing more than to lean closer. </p><p>“Okay.” I mutter, knowing I’d like to fully flesh out what happened another time. </p><p>I almost flinch hearing his phone ring and I sigh as he pulls it from his pocket. </p><p>“It’s Styles.” He can only stare back at it. </p><p>“You better take it.” It was the right thing to do after all. I’m not sure what state Louis was in and if anybody knew, it was Harry. I still wanted to know more about their suspicious closeness. </p><p>“I better.” He repeats and leans forward only slightly to lay a small kiss to my cheek. It surely fueled my engine and I felt better than ever. A simple smile later and he brings the phone to his ear and walks out of the motel room. </p><p>As much as I wanted to throw myself onto the bed in a fit of joy and celebration that my goodness, my plan to see Zayn had worked, I had to refrain and take a reserved seat. My hands were slightly shaking. I needed them to stop. I needed to remain cool and let him know that my decision making was permanent… despite that one slip-up where I took my parent’s side over his. I guess I didn’t know any better. </p><p>My phone. I wanted to open it and see what was there in front of me, but I couldn’t right now – not when things were starting to lighten up for me. I just wished that when I did open it, I’d be met with the usual – not a single notification from anybody. That’s how it has been since I have had a phone and I didn’t have an issue with that being a reality for the rest of my life. I wanted to live in the present. I wanted to relish in the fact that I was chasing a want rather than a need and I was able to put myself first. </p><p>Zayn just looked… incredible. I didn’t quite mean to spy on him from my seated position on the bed that saw out of the window. He was leant against the balcony that spewed out to view the carpark and all I had sight of was his hunched position and back flaunted by his white singlet. </p><p>He had a very distinct tattoo on his back that seemed to take up the entire thing. It seemed very familiar – like I had seen one just like it before. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I needed the singlet off to be able to continue this investigation. </p><p>After a while, I had to cease staring at him as he hung the phone up and returned to me back in the motel room. I’m not sure how I looked sat on the bed with my hands tucked beneath my thighs, staring back at him as though he were the only thing in my world – which wasn’t far from the truth either – hidden behind my school uniform. </p><p>“Is everything okay with Harry?” I ask as he takes the seat beside me. </p><p>“Probably.” He places a hand on my thigh, and I felt a tingle in my stomach. I had missed this. </p><p>“Did you even ask?” </p><p>“Blondie.” He shakes his head. “The phone call was about Tomlinson and how he’s going back to this house party that’s happening tonight. I don’t ask how Harry is.” </p><p>“Oh.” I murmur, thinking about Louis. “I’m sorry about earlier with Louis. I really didn’t mean to cause that type of trouble.” </p><p>“Tomlinson is just… emotional.” Zayn utters. “The week would be incomplete without one of his meltdowns. He complains about everything and thinks he’s helping by sticking up for me.” </p><p>“Really,” I continue, “of anything to happen, that’s surely the last thing I’d want.” </p><p>“I guess he felt how I did.” He says lowly. </p><p>“Zayn-”</p><p>“It’s fine, Blondie. Really.” He kept shaking his head as though emotions were something to disdain. “You’re here now.” </p><p>“Well,” I place my hand atop his, “I just hope that you two will be okay.” </p><p>“We’re big boys.” He smirks back at me, nudging into my shoulder. “It’s not like words can hurt either of us.” </p><p>“T’yeah.” I mutter, wishing I had that same trait. I had to settle by taking everything as literal. On paper, it was perceptive, but it hindered my ability to interact with people normally. </p><p>“How about I call up a pizza?” He raises an eyebrow. “You… You eat pizza, right?” </p><p>“You think I’m a savage?” I chuckle. </p><p>“No… No. I just thought you have a chef that makes you whatever you want at all times.” </p><p>“Hey!” I hit his chest playfully earning a hearty laugh. “Liam and I live on takeout. Pizza is a reoccurring guest of our room.” </p><p>“Then I’ll order one and run down to grab it. Will that be okay?” He lets out and I have to shift in my seat. I didn’t quite want to be alone – actually, I didn’t want to be away from Zayn. But I knew that a complaint about distance may come off needy and while that is 100% who I was, I had to suck it up. </p><p>“Yep.” I pop. “I’ll be fine here.” </p><p>I glance about the room, it’s true emptiness and lack of comfort. Time seemed to pass rather slow when he took that phone call. I can only imagine how slow it would pass while he left to grab dinner. </p><p>“Here,” he reaches to the floor to pull up his black duffle bag. “Find something comfortable to wear. As cute as you look in that blazer, I doubt you’ll want to wear it to bed.” </p><p>I wanted to smile at the comment, I really did. But I felt such a pang of want surge over me as he mentioned bed. What was wrong with me? </p><p>“O-Okay.” I nod and glance over to the bathroom. “I’m going to have a shower as well, is that okay?” </p><p>He bites his lip, hand hovering over mine. </p><p>“That’s fine.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes back on my chest. It was very quiet in the room and I knew he wanted to say something – even I did. I knew a shower would calm me down… Zayn knew that too and I could tell he sensed my nerves from outside of the room. But we both wanted something all in the same; each other. </p><p>“Okay.” I nod, probably mustering an awkward smile in the midst. His eyes were so warm and homed in on every portion of myself that I showed him. I could hardly read Zayn – I never quite mastered it. He seemed so deep in thought, so intimately close to me and yet, so distant as always. </p><p>Was he going to make a move? </p><p>Should I? </p><p>“I promise I won’t take too long, Blondie.” That voice, so low and deep. “Get comfortable. You don’t have to worry about anything.” </p><p>“Okay.” I stifle out a nod, disappointed but slightly relieved I could have some more time with myself. </p><p>He leans over, lays a small kiss to my cheek and pulls away to retrieve his jacket off the ground to shove it on. </p><p>I can only be a voyeur and smile politely as he leaves the room. As the door closes shut, I leap up and begin my plight to welcome Zayn back to the room. Of course, I had absolutely no idea how the night would play out and what it would mean for our relationship. </p><p>The only information I had so far is as follows: Zayn and I would be sharing a bed, we hadn’t fully resolved things, I needed to see that back tattoo and to be rather blatant, if we were going to consummate the budding tension I had felt more than enough of. </p><p>The equation couldn’t quite do itself in my head and I followed the simple orders he had given me. I scurried through his bag, taking time to look at all of his things in hopes that it gave me a little more information about his person, in order to seek out some comfortable clothes. </p><p>Just the idea of wearing his clothes that just smelt like him, was invigorating and I wanted to truly relish in that thought before I jumped to any other conclusions. He seemed to pack rather light. Black t-shirts, white t-shirts, button-up shirts, jeans, tracksuits and a grey hoodie. I grabbed the first shirt I could muster and upon holding one of his tracksuits bottoms up into the air, I gulped. There was no way in hell I would fit into his pants, I was far frailer than his built and sculpted physique that I failed to bring any pants whatsoever. I’m sure my underwear would suffice. </p><p>Everything has been building up to this. I knew in my heart that I had found love – perhaps for the first time in my life. I wasn’t scared, anxious or nervous about it. Everything right now, school, my parents, Liam, the exams I will be missing, Louis and befuddled future led me to feel this way. Just knowing Zayn had pulled me from that trance eased it. </p><p>As I turned the shower on, making sure it was a little hotter than usual, I heard the door click open once more. My breath hitched, stomach knotted, and mind cleared. I could just see my blazer and trousers folded neatly on the bed from my position in the bathroom</p><p>I stood alone in a generic beige tiled bathroom, two and a half hours away from the place I had grown up and garnered my values, in only a pair of white briefs and my school shirt. </p><p>The virgin: a common McGuffin in many literary tales I had studied, was often described as a flower waiting to be picked. While it does no harm to the flower initially, upon pulling it from its stem, it wilts away in the coming days. The virgin in classical art, was often imagined in white, a maiden sheathed in cloth to protect it from deep temptations and sin. I identified in neither. </p><p>I knew nothing about the art of it. This is one of the many things I had never studied for intently in my life. I was unprepared for this test. I didn’t have the answers engraved in my mind, nor could I recite them over and over and over again until I went mad. I was simply a boy, in a small motel in Queensbury, waiting for the man I loved to walk through the bathroom door and see me as I was; his. </p><p>He turns the corner and freezes, eyes raking up and down my torso – to my hips, to my calves. The jacket he wore, always bore a ton of weight. His position and calling in life, ‘President,’ was sewn to his heart and ‘The Damnation’ was all that could be read on his back. But right now, I didn’t see that. I saw Zayn Malik. A young man, watching me with such deep eyes and pink lips I knew I needed to kiss. </p><p>“I ah….” He trails off, same stature. “I was thinking we could have dinner a little later.” </p><p>I can only nod at him and resume my position at the tip of the button closest to my neck. </p><p>“Blondie,” He whispers, taking a step forward. It was utterly silent besides the running of the shower I so wanted him to join me in. “I may not be able to control myself if you look like that.” </p><p>Clearing my throat, I undid the first button. </p><p>“I never said I wanted you to control yourself.” He seemed taken aback by that answer, but nevertheless intrigued and so he takes another step closer as I undo another button. </p><p>“You’re sure?” He raises an eyebrow, seemingly dropping the façade he once possessed and regaining the same Zayn that I met the first night. He licks his lips and as much as I wanted to fall into his hands like putty – as I usually did – something inside of me refused. </p><p>“I’m sure.” I nod, so matter-of-factly as though I was speaking to a teacher. “I’m sure we both have the same thing in mind, Zayn.” </p><p>“I don’t know about that.” He smirks, eyes keen and wanting. </p><p>“I do.” I suck in a breath. Where were my nerves? All I could focus on was what was to come, my complete lack of experience and my want to mask that. Zayn could easily do the math that I had never done this before – I had never even shown my body to someone, let alone given it to them. “I want to apologize to you.” </p><p>He bites his bottom lip. </p><p>“You want to make it up to me?” He takes another step forward; I remove two buttons. </p><p>A nod. </p><p>“Blondie,” we were almost chest-to-chest. “I’m going to say this once.” </p><p>I sucked in a breath, having mixed thoughts of what was to come. This was the man who had watered down every alcoholic beverage he had served me, busted a knuckle punching a delinquent who merely asked for my money-less wallet without threat of injury, made sure I was home before midnight – despite the knowledge he could have me out at any time of the night – and divert my eyes from the rampant drug use in the gang. He was no different than my parents in some respects. He wanted me safe; away from the danger of the big bad world. He saw me as somebody he had to protect. I just knew he wouldn’t want me the same way I wanted him-</p><p>“Take off your clothes.” It was simple and utterly persuasive. It was enough to break any premonitions I had calculated for what was to come. “Take off your clothes and face the mirror.” </p><p>He seemed so serious – like he was giving orders to members of the gang. In all honestly, I had craved this treatment. I hated how everybody saw me as collateral damage and something to protect. </p><p>“Okay.” The flutter in my stomach wouldn’t cease. I leant on my left ankle to turn around and face the mirror. My view cut off at about my lower chest. Zayn was watching me through the mirror, those dark eyes that held so many thoughts I could never quite put my finger on. </p><p>I hardly hesitated. With each button I undid, Zayn’s face remained unscathed. His eyes were firmly on my chest through the reflection and once I dropped my white school shirt to the ground, they diverted to my back.  </p><p>Standing there, in only tight white briefs, I knew exactly where his mind was travelling. Often, I could do everything but properly read Zayn. He never gave much away when it came to his emotions. But this time, his eyes were firmly planted on my backside and as confident and as pretty as I felt with him watching me, I felt the nerves increase momentarily. </p><p>In our time together, I never had the pleasure of seeing him without his shirt on. No doubt, I knew he was toned and had an amazing body – as though it had fallen off an Adonis sculpture. I was rather frail, no muscle whatsoever and my ribs were visible toward the height of my chest. As I look in the mirror, I can only observe what 18 years of sitting at a desk studying gives you. </p><p>“Blondie,” I snap my eyes up to glance at him in the mirror. He was slowly beginning to peel his jacket off. “I said take your clothes off.” </p><p>I gulp. I wanted to show him every single part of me – my body just had this weird inability of moving. This was a huge step. I couldn’t let him down; because I wanted this more than anybody. </p><p>I wanted to show everybody that I was no longer the same little boy at the Bradford Academy. I’m not Bobby and Maura’s son – you know, the one who sat at dinner parties with those in Parliament and had his cheeks pinched by prospective University deans and law professors. As I shed my briefs to my ankles, I knew Zayn saw me as something to be desired… something to be loved. </p><p>He was silent after my clothing hit the floor. I could see how he watched me – intimately. </p><p>“Get in the shower. I’ll join you in a second.” It was simple. I wanted to turn around… I wanted to touch him. He knew exactly what he was doing when he turned on his heel, pulling his jacket to the floor, tensing his back and exiting the bathroom. </p><p>“Okay.” I murmur to myself. “I can do this. I’m a big boy.” </p><p>As I step into the now foggy shower and close the curtain behind me, I ignore the rather hot temperature and dunk my head cleanly underneath the head. The water helped – it really did. I couldn’t tell whether it was nerves or anticipation. </p><p>He seemed to take his time. I’m not sure whether this was him paying me back for what I did, but with the tone he was previously extending my way, I knew he would punish me for it. I couldn’t wait. </p><p>The water was so hot, my pale skin began to turn pink and I took a great big nervous breath at the sound of footsteps nearing. </p><p>I had so many thoughts about what Zayn would look like naked. I wanted to see all of his tattoos… I wanted to explore every single part of him. I wanted to show him how I felt. </p><p>Keeping my eyes firmly planted on the trickling water in front of me, the shower curtains open and shut and I feel his warm hand on my hip and lips on the back of my neck. </p><p>“You realize what you did to me?” He murmurs, so incredibly low – as if he was using the sound of the water to cover the conversation and let it all out freely where it was just him and I. </p><p>“Zayn-”</p><p>His hand grasps my neck and bends my head back to rest on his shoulder. I was taken aback by the forcefulness. He presses himself a little closer to me – so we were stuck together. My backside, all but encompassed the stiff member he had milled against me. Such a minimal gesture… and I felt such a tingling feeling in my stomach and just knew I could be thinking about this moment for many nights. </p><p>“How many times do I need to tell you I don’t do this with anyone?” He whispers into my ear, pressing his fingers tighter in my throat and leaving a small kiss where he spoke. “And you go and do what you did.” </p><p>I reach around to place a hand on his head, fisting a handful of his hair. Just feeling him – the size of it – hauling itself against my entrance, one I wanted him to explore more than anything, was sending me crazy. </p><p>“You don’t know the things you do to me.” He grunts, squeezing my neck slightly. I had to shut my eyes, so in awe at everything I felt. “I’ve thought about getting you here since the night I met you. I want you to myself. All of you.” </p><p>As he says this, I feel his other hand creep about to grasp the right side of my backside and I almost squeak. I wanted this man to do everything. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” I let out, with the breath I can muster. “I will never do it again. I’m yours. I promise.” </p><p>“Tell me again.” He grunts, hand squeezing my cheek harder. </p><p>“I’m sorry-”</p><p>“No tell me you’re mine. I want to hear it.” </p><p>I pause and bite my lip, knowing what I was doing to him. He had been waiting this entire night – all throughout dinner and hauling ourselves back to the motel – to tell me all of this. I had to wait to give it to him. </p><p>“I’m all yours.” </p><p>In this, he removes both of his hands and grabs my hips to turn me to face him. </p><p>Beneath the shower head, he kisses me with more passion than I could imagine. It was messy, dysfunctional and harrowing what he did to me. </p><p>“Zayn,” I whisper as he removes his lips from mine to bring them to the neck, he previously had a grasp over. “I’m yours.” </p><p>He grunts, hand grasping what was his. </p><p>“I’m yours. I won’t leave.” I was almost moaning it at this point, and he had such passion and desperation in the way he handled me and every part that he wanted to explore. “I belong to you.” </p><p>“Yeah you do.” He mutters, grasping both of my thighs and hoisting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he presses me harshly against the shower wall. </p><p>I didn’t know what I had ahead of me. I didn’t even know what would happen come morning. I just needed to be present in this moment and relish in something I would never forget.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Quickly whipped this chapter up to make up for the lack of smut in the last chapter! I apologise I'm just not a great smut writer :( I will try and get some more updates quickly x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s really not that great, is it?” He frowns at the sad looking slice of pizza in the box in front of him. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of me. He was laid across horizontally on the bed, in nothing but his grey boxers, with the pizza and beer we were sharing separating us. It certainly was a change from how I usually saw him – brooding, serious and wearing something black. </p><p>“I don’t mind it.” I take another bite of the sad looking, not-so-great slice of pizza. </p><p>“Blondie, it tastes like shit.” He mutters, throwing his slice back into the box. “Let’s order something a little better, okay? Maybe Chinese or burgers… I don’t know. You should be eating better than this.” </p><p>I raise an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“It’s fine.” I huff, taking another swig of my light beer. “It’s not completely messed up – there’s some redeeming qualities to it.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” He lets out a small playful smile and I just relish in the lightness of him. He seemed so utterly happy. I shared how he felt. </p><p>“Yeah,” I glance down at the slice, trying to find something there that could make him feel a little bit better. “I mean… it’s not completely damp.” </p><p>He sighs and shuts the pizza box. </p><p>“Let me get you something else.” </p><p>I reach over and grasp onto his wrist. </p><p>“This is perfect, Zayn.” I huff. “I’m really, really happy.” </p><p>He seemed to relax a little and apprehensively reopened the pizza box. </p><p>“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He mutters. “I just need to chill out.” </p><p>“You’re not wrong.” I chuckle, removing my hand from his wrist. </p><p>After the shower, he carried me back to the exact bed we were laying on eating dinner and took away a single part of the identity I was trying to drop. It was everything I had hoped and dreamed of – if not more and I knew he felt the same. It didn’t take too long for us to do it again right after. </p><p>I felt everything. Small yet insignificant pain in my backside, love-bites on my neck and a feeling all over my body that exuded pure joy. </p><p>Nothing felt incredibly different. I didn’t see the light of heaven or the flames of hell come to get me. It was simply a human experience and one that I’m not sure could get any better. </p><p>It was quiet for a while. He had a quaint smile to his lips and kept looking from the duvet cover to my eyeline while tapping his finger on the bottle of beer beside him. He clearly had something on his mind – I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what. </p><p>“What are you going to do, Blondie?” He huffs out. “I mean, tomorrow?” </p><p>“I’m not going to leave you; I know that much.” I reassure him. “Whatever you do, I will.” </p><p>He smiles but soon after shakes his head. </p><p>“You can’t do the things I’m going to do tomorrow.” He says huskily. </p><p>I sigh. </p><p>“Then… Then I’ll go for a walk somewhere. I’ve never been to this town before.” I sit myself up a little straighter. “And from what I’ve seen, it’s lovely.” </p><p>He snorts. </p><p>“The place is a shithole.” He chuckles. “This is only a stopover.” </p><p>“A stopover? But Harry said-”</p><p>“Harry doesn’t have his information correct.” He tuts. “You know, we’re in a place with almost more crime and gangs than Bradford – do you know what that means?” </p><p>I shake my head. </p><p>“It means that there’s almost as much police patrolling the streets.” He advises. “And they’re not going to be very happy if they see any of my jackets walking about town.” </p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking…” I trail off and he cracks a small smile knowing what was to come. “Why won’t they be very happy? I mean… I’m not one to listen to gossip, but I heard along the grapevine it had something to do with you and a gun…” </p><p>He chuckles darkly and reaches forward to squeeze my knee as I sat cross-legged covered by the duvet. </p><p>“Nothing for you to worry about, Blondie.” He ticks. “There’s just things I need to do.” </p><p>“Okay I guess.” I shrug, accepting it. At least the man he shot was alive… It made me wonder if there have been any that didn’t quite make it. “You know, you’re nowhere near as tough as they probably think you are.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” He smirks, edging closer. </p><p>“Yeah.” I finish as he nears my face. “You don’t have it in you.” </p><p>He chuckles darkly and bites his lip. </p><p>“You’ve seen what I can do to you.” He leans forward and presses his lips softly to my neck. “I don’t think you’re the one to say I don’t have it in me.” </p><p>“Well, what we did… that’s one thing.” I huff. “I just hope you don’t sort your gang business the same way you made things up with me.” </p><p>He chuckles, placing a hand of his to the side of my face.</p><p>“No, no way.” </p><p>“You better not.” </p><p>“I’m all yours, Blondie.” He whispers, massaging the side of my face tenderly. “And you’re mine.” </p><p>“Don’t you forget it.” </p><p>“But tell me, what are you really going to do tomorrow? We’re going to head off at around 5 for the next town.” He explains to me and I sigh. </p><p>“I’m not sure. I think I better call my parents in the morning. It’s not really fair that I haven’t made any contact with them yet.” </p><p>“Why would you want to make contact with them?” He mutters, understandably pressed. </p><p>“They’re my parents, Zayn.” I huff. “I’m far away from them and ran out of my exam.” </p><p>“I’ll have a word or two to say to em’.” </p><p>I sigh and lean forward to hold his hand. </p><p>“I know you’d love that. But I do need to speak to them.” He seemed to understand, and he nodded about, completely unamused. </p><p>“I’m afraid I won’t be around long, though.” </p><p>“I thought we didn’t have to leave until 5.” I tilt my head to the side, earning a coy little smile. </p><p>“True.” He nods. “But I have other matters to attend to.” </p><p>I knew not to ask and simply smiled. </p><p>“I’ll have Styles stay with you. You don’t have any clothes with you, so I’ll leave you some cash to get some.” </p><p>“Oh…” I trail off. “I guess I can’t stay in my uniform forever.” </p><p>“No, you can’t.”</p><p>“Okay well, I’ll spend the day with Harry.” I was looking forward to it if I were to be frank. I did enjoy Harry to an extent. “And then I’ll see you around 5?” </p><p>“Of course,” He whispers. “We can be together for a little bit before we leave.” </p><p>“Oh…” I huff, already looking forward to it. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” </p><p>He smiles and presses his forehead to mine. </p><p>“You’re so happy.” </p><p>“I am so happy.” I reassure him and seal the deal with a kiss. </p><p>Going to sleep with Zayn was something else. I wanted to stay awake so I wouldn’t miss a moment of him holding me, but I was so at peace that a deep slumber felt inevitable. It was safe to say that we remained in each other’s arms until morning. </p><p>When we awoke, I sat myself upon the bedhead and smiled at my view of Zayn brushing his teeth with his back toward me. Despite seeing every single part of him last night, I didn’t quite look at the large tattoo that took up the majority of his back. I knew it was familiar. It was the same tattoo that I saw on Louis’ back – the same skull on the Damnation flag. </p><p>Apart of me frowned. He had literally engraved this into his skin… this gang was everything to him. He was tied to it for life. </p><p>“Oh, you’re up.” He spits in the sink, rinses his mouth and wipes it with the back of his hand. “Morning, Blondie.” </p><p>He stalks his way to the bed, sporting a pair of black jeans and nothing else. As he ducks down to lay a loving kiss to my lips, I grasp onto the covers a little tighter. Glancing about at the clock on the wall, I notice the time reading 9:34AM. I am meant to be in my English Exam right now. </p><p>And yet I felt nothing. Just Zayn. </p><p>“Morning.” </p><p>He huffs and wraps his arms around me, and I just wanted to melt and go back to sleep. </p><p>“Take your pants off and get under the covers with me.” I pout earning that smirk and a large sigh. </p><p>“You know I’d love that.” He hums. “But we need to go. Checkout is at 10 and a bunch of the guys are getting coffee.” </p><p>“Oh.” I trail off, wanting to stay in the safety of my bubble a little longer. “You can go and get coffee. I’ll stay here and clean up the motel a little before checkout.” </p><p>He shakes his head. </p><p>“No, you’ll come with me.” He lets out. “Besides, that’s where Harry is. He’s the one taking care of you today.” </p><p>“But…” There was no use fighting it. I was scared to see Louis. I didn’t know whether he’d actually finish the job this time. </p><p>And unsurprisingly, Zayn seemed to know the root of my issue. </p><p>“Tomlinson won’t do anything.” He relents. “He was probably coked out of his mind last night when he said all of those things to you anyway.” </p><p>“I don’t know,” I mutter. “It seemed pretty serious and he meant what he said.” </p><p>“Hey,” he stops these thoughts from escalating knowing just how dangerous that would be. “He says anything, I’ll send his ass back to Bradford. I’ve got you, remember?” </p><p>“Yeah,” I sigh. “I remember.” </p><p>“Good.” He nods. “Now get dressed and meet me down near the check-in. You saw the diner next door, right?” </p><p>“Right.” I huff as he shoves on a plain white shirt from his bag, an oversized black hoodie and a pair of black shades on. </p><p>“I’ll see you in a minute, Blondie.” He winks, leaving a small kiss to my lips before he is on his way out. Who knew he was such a morning person? </p><p>I hike myself out of bed, step into my black school trousers, socks and shoes before raiding Zayn’s bag for something appropriate to wear with it. I settle with a white sweatshirt that was way too big for me but smelt like Zayn, so I was satisfied. I must’ve looked even the slightest bit ridiculous in dress pants and loafers alongside such a casual top but that was beside the point. </p><p>I pocket my phone and wallet and very apprehensively make my way down to the diner. There was no doubt in my mind that I did not want to do this or be here. I wanted to be with Zayn – Harry, yeah maybe, but I wasn’t sure if the rest of his gang held the same hostility Louis held or if he would continue his anger aimed at me indefinitely. </p><p>Sucking it up and opening the door of the Diner, I gulped at the sea of black leather jackets in the mundane little eatery. As though they were in a bar, they were loud and boisterous – clearly having the time of their lives just sitting there eating breakfast or drinking their coffees. </p><p>How could my eyes not magnetize toward Zayn? Thankfully, he was sat at a booth across from Scott, chuckling as they listened to one of the other men waffle on about a story. When he notices me, he scoots over and throws an arm around my shoulder. Thankfully, no Louis or Harry in sight. </p><p>“Morning, Scott.” I smile at the brunette with the distinct scar over his cheek. He grins back. </p><p>“Morning, Blondie.” He lets out. “And I must say, it’s nice seeing you back.” </p><p>Zayn holds me a little tighter. </p><p>“It’s good to be back.” I huff. Zayn takes a sip of his black coffee. </p><p>“Did you want a coffee, love?” He directs toward me and I firmly shake my head. </p><p>“No… no it’s okay.” I smile. I hated the bitterness and was never the breakfast person either – my body was in the rhythm of eating after the practice exam I did in the morning. “I’m fine as is.” </p><p>“Okay, love.” He nods, directing his attention back to Scott who began on a rank about some fight that occurred yesterday – most likely the one with Louis in it. </p><p>I sigh to my lap. There was so much going on in my head. While last night was absolutely perfect and I am falling harder than I could have ever imagined for Zayn, I still felt something burning in my pocket that was just begging to be checked. </p><p>One problem at a time, Niall. </p><p>Louis and Harry still hadn’t come to breakfast, Zayn seemed happy and occupied… there was no better time than now to deal with it. </p><p>“Hey Zayn,” I tug at his jumper during a pause in their conversation. “You mind if I just go out and get some air?” </p><p>He raises an eyebrow expectantly. </p><p>“That’s fine – is everything okay?” He lets out. </p><p>“It’s perfect.” I nod back. “I won’t take too long.” </p><p>After smiling at Scott and squeezing Zayn’s hand beneath the table I slide out of the booth and into the fresh air. We were very close to a highway and the soundtrack of cars and bikes speeding past certainly would muffle a phone call to an extent, but I knew I had no other choice. </p><p>I take a seat at the bench closest to the diner – yet far away enough that Zayn could no longer see me through the window. I really didn’t want him to worry, not when he had other things to worry about amongst his gang. This seat happened to be within the car-park of the motel where all of the motorcycles were parked. </p><p>“Okay.” I whisper. “Just get it over with.” </p><p>I yank my phone from my pocket and turn it on, rather nervous for what was to come. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t even know if I had it in me to imagine a particular reaction. I just knew it had to happen. </p><p>The phone turns on. I gulp. </p><p>57 text messages, 43 phone calls, and 9 emails. </p><p>“Oh god,” my eyes lazily scan the text messages sporadically. </p><p>‘…Irresponsible boy…’ </p><p>‘…What have you done to this family…’ </p><p>‘…Niall come home…’ </p><p>‘…Niall I’m sorry, come home…’ </p><p>‘…I am losing sleep here…’ </p><p>I sigh and immediately return one of my mother’s phone calls – amongst those from Liam, Dad, my headmaster, even James. </p><p>I didn’t even know what I would say. In fact, I literally had to wing it. </p><p>After two rings, she answers. </p><p>“Bobby! It’s Niall – Niall!” She releases, clearly alarmed and a part of me felt terrible. I must’ve really put them through it, I had completely betrayed their trust and everything they had built for me. I couldn’t even return their calls. </p><p>“Niall, sweetie, Niall, where are you? Are you okay?” </p><p>“I’m fine.” I sigh, trying to ease the shakiness in my voice. “Really, I’m fine.” </p><p>“Where are you?” I hear my Dad chime in. </p><p>“I’m…” I glance around and ponder whether it would really be a good idea in telling them. I just knew that if I said my location, they’d hightail it down here and force me into their car immediately. I couldn’t put myself through something so demeaning like that – not in front of Zayn. “I’m not telling you.” </p><p>A pause. </p><p>“What?!” An exclaim. “Niall you will tell us right now. We need to come and get you – you can’t run away.” </p><p>“I didn’t run away.” I murmur. “I just made the decision to get away for a bit.” </p><p>“Why?” My father’s voice was dripping in disappointment and I just knew my mother was trying to calm her anger. “Why the hell did you do this to me? Do you know what an embarrassment this is? You… You have thrown your entire academic career out of the window!” </p><p>I push the roof of my mouth with my tongue – the place I felt most that I would burst out crying. </p><p>“That’s what you want for me.” I huff. “I…I don’t want to do what you want.” </p><p>Again, stunned silence. </p><p>“Are you with that criminal?” Mother seethes. “What’s his name Bobby? Malik – Zayn Malik?” </p><p>“No.” I bite my lip. </p><p>“He and that gang are all over the news – they’ve fled Bradford.” He retorts. “You’re with them, aren’t you?” </p><p>I bite my lip. </p><p>“So, what if I am?” </p><p>Quietness. </p><p>One second passed… two… three… four… ten… </p><p>“Listen very carefully,” Mother begins. “You are our son. You’re ours. You will come home immediately.” </p><p>“I don’t want to go anywhere. I am 18-”</p><p>“I don’t care how old you are. No son of mine is going to date some degenerate jail bird.” Dad pitches in and it felt like a punch to the stomach. “You promised us. You made a promise that you would never see him again.” </p><p>I felt utterly defeated as they continued to list off the reasons, I had failed them. </p><p>From all that I heard through the pounding of my heart, I gaged that they were humiliated I ran out of the exam, Liam is worried sick, I would end up in jail or dead and that Zayn is the last person on Earth that they’d want me with. I was worthless at this point. </p><p>I had to take away the phone from my ear. Even with distance, I could still hear their complaining from my phone’s position on my lap. </p><p>Staring straight ahead, in avoidance of tears and a meltdown, I notice Louis and Harry emerge from one of the motel rooms. Fantastic. </p><p>They walk closer and closer – to the tune of my Father calling me an ‘embarrassment’ over the phone – and I just picture myself as the person who lives in the deepest hole on the Earth. </p><p>I wanted to ignore them. I couldn’t even face them, so instead, I glanced to my lap and brought the phone to my ear. The abuse and name calling… that was okay. I just had to translate to the two of them that I was busy and if Louis wanted to join in with the jeering, the position was already taken. </p><p>“-I got a call from your Headmaster straight after you ran out-”</p><p>It was like ringing in my ear. I moaned and wished I had thrown my phone into the dumpster before I turned it on. At least I wouldn’t have to take this. </p><p>“Never and I say this with meaning, never… have I been so embarrassed by your behavior.” He carries on and on and on…</p><p>“I’m sorry.” I whisper weakly. “I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t.” </p><p>Something, something, “Terrible,” something, something, “Failure.” </p><p>“I’m sorry I disappointed you. But I’m not coming home – especially now.” </p><p>This brought on another onslaught of name-calling and added fuel to the freak-out. </p><p>“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” </p><p>And with that, I hang up my phone and shove it in my pocket. </p><p>“Fuck!” I curse – probably for the first time out loud. </p><p>“You alright?” </p><p>I glance up and squeeze my eyes shut. Perfect. My morning couldn’t be better. First my parents… now Louis staring down at me. </p><p>“I- Um… Yeah I’m fine.” I shake my head. “It’s just my parents.” </p><p>“What happened?” He seemed rather calm.</p><p>“They’ve just flipped the lid. They banished me from seeing Zayn and here I am. I am meant to be doing exams and here I am.” I explain, pressing a shoulder forward. “I’m just… in a really bad place.” </p><p>He sighs. I didn’t even want to look up at him. </p><p>“Do you mind if I take a seat?” </p><p>I don’t reply with words. I simply scoot myself over on the bench so he can take a seat. Clearly Harry had gone into the diner and left Louis out here alone with me. I don’t think I even cared – nothing could be worse than that phone call. </p><p>“I don’t know if Malik has told you,” he turns to me, hands pocketing in his gang jacket. “But I’ve had similar troubles with my folks.” </p><p>I nod. </p><p>“They kicked me out a total of 5 times before I had to go and live with Malik.” He begins to explain. “The first time is the hardest. It gets better as they progress.” </p><p>“What did they kick you out for?” I sniffle. </p><p>“Well the first time I got kicked it, it was actually kind of funny…” He trails off. “My Mum – she wasn’t quite right – she… she had an addiction to these pills and one day me, Malik and a few of our schoolmates got into her stash to get high.” </p><p>I bite my lip. </p><p>“But that’s not the funny part,” he points out, as though he were about to laugh himself, “the funny part was, that when Dad caught me with them – he asked me where I got them. I told him, ‘I got them from Mum,’ and he beat me and kicked me out because he thought I was lying. He believed her lies over my truth.” </p><p>Something sat a little off in my stomach as he chuckles at this as though it were a bitterly fond memory. </p><p>“The second time,” he continues, “he kicked me out because I got kicked out of school. Copped a nice beating for that.” </p><p>My situation sounded so… pretentious compared to Louis’ as he continued to list off each and every instance of his domestic abuse. </p><p>“Third time, Malik got arrested for selling drugs.” He seemed to have a chuckle at this one. “I got kicked out for associating with him.”</p><p>“Fourth time… let me think… Oh, I had a party while they weren’t home. I guess I deserved that.” He huffs. “Broke a lot of shit, did a lot of drugs.”</p><p>“And what made you not come back?” I ask, tucking my bottom lip under. He seemed hesitant. “I-I mean… You don’t have to share it with me.” </p><p>“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t mind telling.” </p><p>He looks to his lap and laces his fingers together.</p><p> “I – Ah…” </p><p>He seemed nervous. </p><p>“Louis, really, you’ve already shared so much-”</p><p>“He caught me in bed with a guy.” He lets it out so smoothly. “That’s all. I was fifteen and you know what it’s like at fifteen and sex is all you think about-”</p><p>He pauses – probably realises who he is talking to and ceases that direction of conversation. </p><p>“He caught me in bed with a guy.” He repeats simply. “The drugs, getting kicked out of school, fucking everything around me up knowing I had a place in the Damnation if I wanted it… that wasn’t the final straw for them.” </p><p>I bite my lip. </p><p>“What got me kicked out, wasn’t all the pent-up hate and anger I had.” He continues. “No, no… the worst thing I ever did was make love to someone who I cared for. That’s the worst of all to them.” </p><p>“I… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” I whisper to the gang member whomst I had never seen in such light. “That’s so horrible.” </p><p>“Yeah well,” he tilts his head to the side, “Dad’s a drop-kick and Mum’s a no-hoper. I don’t need them.” </p><p>The bitterness in his voice as he said this – he definitely still cared and held such a grudge. He was just so confident and strong-willed that I would never had guessed that this was a rather defining moment in his life. </p><p>“Do you want some advice?” He reaches into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette. I simply nod. </p><p>“The first time you get kicked out, stay out.” </p><p>I glance to my lap, perhaps scared at the truth in his words – I’m not sure. </p><p>“I didn’t need to wait for the fifth time to realize my parents were trash. You shouldn’t wait for a second time.” He nods forth. “Now that you’re out, you’re out.” </p><p>He clenches the smoke between his lips as he goes to light it. </p><p>“Smoke?” He asks quickly and I frivolously shake my head. </p><p>“Being with a guy is nothing to be ashamed of, Louis.” I murmur to him, his strange relationship with Harry began to make sense. “Zayn likes guys and he’s the President. I don’t think anybody has an issue with that.” </p><p>“No,” he shakes his head. “Zayn likes anything that walks. I like guys. You like guys. There’s a big difference and I’ve been brought up to believe that’s wrong my whole life that sometimes I begin to believe it.” </p><p>I pause for a second. </p><p>“You can’t hide who you are.” I relay to him. “And maybe I am wrong here and have completely misjudged the situation completely.” </p><p>Hopefully this disclaimer did enough. </p><p>“But you’re allowed to be with Harry.” I retort. “You don’t need be together in secret.” </p><p>He raises an eyebrow at me and clears his throat. </p><p>“I may be naïve and turn a blind eye to all of the things I am completely not used to and terrified of,” I chuckle, “but I can tell you like him, and I can tell he likes you to. I mean, it’s not the most subtle thing in the world that something is going on.” </p><p>He chuckles and shakes his head. </p><p>“You’re something else, Blondie.” He takes a breath of cigarette. “I’m… I’m happy you think that there may be something more. But for now, he’s just the apprentice I’m training.” </p><p>“Do you train all of the apprentices?” I raise an eyebrow. </p><p>“Well no,” He relents. “None look as good as Styles.” </p><p>I chuckle at the comment and felt my spirits had totally lifted. Louis did have such a likeability to him – especially now knowing he had told me things so personal. I saw him in another light. Reading between the lines, it was obvious that Zayn had always been around for him – despite that one mention of him getting arrested – which to me, completely validated the way he yelled at me last night. </p><p>After a moment of silence, only filled with the exhaling and inhaling of one cigarette, he turns to me once more. </p><p>“Blondie,” I knew what was coming. “I’m… I’m really sorry about last night.” </p><p>“Hey,” I shake my head. “It’s fine – really, it’s more than okay.” </p><p>“No… No, it’s not.” He trails off. “I wasn’t myself – I had the adrenaline from the fight, and I had been drinking – it’s not a good mixture for me.” </p><p>“I can tell you’re a great friend of Zayn.” I nod. “I made a big mistake in letting him go but I’m here now. I don’t think he’s going to lose me that easily.” </p><p>“Well, you may regret that.” He sucks in another breath of his cigarette. “One day you’ll wake up and realize that he’s too much and want to leave on your own accord.” </p><p>“Maybe.” I chuckle and I felt so utterly at ease. This meant so much to me and furthermore, meant I had a real friend in the gang. </p><p>Both of our heads turn as Zayn and the others pile out of the diner – some walking toward the bikes and others stopping to chat with each other. Zayn stalks straight to me. </p><p>“You’ve got a real winner here, Malik.” Louis throws an arm around my shoulder and I could only watch the gang leader glare down at him. I wanted to smile. I really did. </p><p>“Mm,” he murmurs off, “there’s no stick up your ass this morning, Tomlinson?” </p><p>Zayn seemed so serious and glared down at him as though it were a threat.</p><p>“Of course not, mate.” The brunette grins and holds a hand out for him to shake. </p><p>Zayn’s eyes meet mine and I give him a small yet genuine smile to reassure him. </p><p>Apprehensively, he reaches forward, and they shake hands. That’s one problem solved and now… I’m sure another approaches. </p><p>“Styles,” Zayn calls over to him as the younger of the pair stalks over with a crisp cigarette between his teeth. I couldn’t help but notice the shift in Louis. Maybe I made it a little awkward in letting him know I thought something was going on. Nevertheless, his eyes lit up and lips upturned into a smile. “You’re looking after Blondie for the day.” </p><p>“I am?” He almost groans, looking down at me. “I just did that yesterday, Malik.” </p><p>“You’ll take him shopping for some clothes and meet us at Rathsport.” He nods about. </p><p>“Oh… I won’t see you until we’re at the next town?” I tilt my head to the side, knowing I was promised some alone time lodged between trips. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Blondie.” Zayn huffs. “Something came up.” </p><p>I glance over at Louis who squints his eyes and nods anyway, as though the lackluster information gave something completely obvious away. </p><p>“Don’t do anything stupid Styles and keep Blondie close – he’s never been up these parts.” Zayn advises, sending me a small smile. </p><p>“Really?” Harry snorts. “I’m not sure what gave that away.” </p><p>“Styles,” Louis sighs standing to his feet and throwing an arm around his shoulder as though it were second nature, “You need to ease up on the kid – you’d be scared if this was your first time away from home.” </p><p>Harry only rolls his eyes at the elder of the two and brings his gaze back to me. </p><p>“Fine.” His eyes rake up and down my body. “I know a few places where they sell kid’s clothes.” </p><p>“Styles,” Zayn snaps, earning a chuckle from the pair. </p><p>“Come on Blondie,” Harry snorts, nudging my arm. “We’ll have a good time; I promise you that.” </p><p>“I’m going to go pack up the room, I’ll meet you on the bikes Malik.” Louis lets out, flicking his spent cigarette to the ground. “Be good, Styles.” </p><p>The younger of the two smirks back before diverting his gaze to his feet. </p><p>“I’ll be at my bike, okay Blondie?” He huffs. </p><p>“Okay, Harry.” I nod politely and watch as he and Louis galivant off. </p><p>I turn to Zayn expectantly. </p><p>“Louis… He’s not a problem?” He asks to my swift shake of the head. “Good.” </p><p>“You be safe today, okay?” I frown at him. “I’m not sure what you’re doing but I do want you being careful.” </p><p>He smirks and leans down to peck my cheek. </p><p>“I’ll be safe.” He whispers. “I’ll be thinking about you.” </p><p>“I’ll be thinking of you too.” I hum, watching the man I loved and cared for so intently. </p><p>“Oh, and before I forget.” He reaches into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. “You’ll need money for clothes.” </p><p>“Zayn, I have my wallet with me.” I nod about. “I can pay-”</p><p>“Here,” he reaches forward and passes a thick wad of cash. I’m not even sure just how much was here in this pile. I can only stare down at it. “Buy yourself a bag to put your things in, some toiletries and something pretty for me to look at you in.” </p><p>“Zayn… This is… How much money is this?” I gape. </p><p>“Ahh,” he glances down at the cash in my hand. “I’m not sure, it’s the cash I didn’t count from yesterday.” </p><p>I glare at him.</p><p>“Don’t worry.” He chuckles. “It’s enough for you to get everything you need.” </p><p>“I only require like $50 to get what I need, and I have that $50 right in my credit card.” I let out, earning another kiss on the cheek. </p><p>“I said I want you to buy yourself something pretty,” he continues, “there’s plenty of cash for you to do that.” </p><p>All I can do is fail to a sigh and lean my head into his chest as he embraces me ‘goodbye.’ </p><p>As I mounted the bike with Harry and waved him off, I could only count the hours until I got to see him again – hoping more than anything he was safe. </p><p>“So… What kind of things do you like to wear, hm?” Harry lets out, lazily scanning the racks of the closest department store. We had already been to a grocer to grab a toothbrush, travel can of deodorant, shampoo, soap and very quaint little toiletry bag with stars on it. I had to uphold Zayn’s promise and buy myself things that would impress him. </p><p>“I don’t know,” I huff. “Polos?” </p><p>“The only people who find someone who wears a polo attractive is a man’s wife who exists in their sexless marriage.” He chuckles. </p><p>“Well… I’ve been known to dabble in the odd cardigan and woolen sweater?” I raise an eyebrow at him, just knowing he would think I was a joke for even saying it. He always exuded that ‘popular kid’ energy and it was rather confronting for somebody like me who felt invisible at school. </p><p>“Come on,” he shakes his head. “Get something that Zayn will want to fuck you in.” </p><p>The language was so explicit and provoking. It was also 100% what I needed to look for. </p><p>“Well… Well…” I sigh. “You know what Zayn goes for typically. What do they wear when they come to the bar?” </p><p>He bites his lip. </p><p>“Something cool…” He trails off. </p><p>“You know, Zayn clearly sees beyond the way I dress.” I reassert this point. “I mean, I’ve always dressed this way and he had no problem being with me.” </p><p>“That’s a phenomenon I am yet to explore.” He retorts sarcastically and I just about roll my eyes. “Clearly, he’ll fuck you no matter what you wear.” </p><p>He pauses. </p><p>“He has… right?” He trails slowly and I stop walking. “I mean, I’m not so gullible to think that you slept in his room last and just… slept?” </p><p>Now, I pause. </p><p>“We didn’t just sleep.” I confess, deep-down excited to actually tell somebody. </p><p>“You did it?” He raises an eyebrow and I confirm with a strict nod. </p><p>“Blondie!” He exclaims and pulls me into a hug. “I love to hear it!” </p><p>“Thank you, Harry.” I murmur, trying not to blush as I pull away. Very quickly, I try and focus my attention back in the clothes. </p><p>“Well?” </p><p>“Well what?” </p><p>“Well, how was it?” He gleams and I sigh to the floor. </p><p>“Really… really good, Harry.” I couldn’t help but smile, earning one back. “In books, people describe their first time as painful and awkward – it was amazing.” </p><p>“He’s had lots of practice.” He chuckles and I follow in suit, just accepting that Harry was so incredibly blunt. “I’m proud of you, Buddy. Now we really need to find you something nice, so Malik comes back for more – hey?” </p><p>I had so much faith in Zayn that he saw beyond my wardrobe… but being far away from my parents, the school and Liam, suggested absolutely no reason why I couldn’t change things up and make myself pretty for him. </p><p>First order of business was a nice pair of black jeans. I had only owned blue jeans, chinos and slacks. This felt like a great canvas. They were rather tight, and Harry kept making comments about how it accentuated my backside – I laughed it off but felt as though I had momentarily won this battle with welding fashion and compulsion. </p><p>Secondly, I grabbed a few button-up tops. They were rather loose and short-sleeved. When I tried them on, the Harry had undone the top three buttons to show a little bit of my chest. He chose the style and I chose the colors; pastel green, white and baby pink. Add a few plain red, blue and grey t-shirts and a yellow sweater, Harry had labeled me as the most colorful person the Damnation had ever come across.  </p><p>Thirdly, came necessities. Underwear, socks and a decent pair of shoes. A pair of black Converses seemed to be a staple of my wardrobe even before meeting Zayn. I added a white duffle bag to carry it all in and Harry and I left the store with over $1,000 left out of the ridiculous pile of cash I had been handed. </p><p>After having a bite to eat and walking around Queensbury, we headed off to the next town Rathsport where Harry and I suspected Zayn and the others had already left for. </p><p>It was a decent hours drive and if Harry didn’t speed like a bat out of hell, perhaps I could have had some rest on his back. Instead, I had my eyes glued shut to shield myself from the terror that felt inevitable in the way he drove. </p><p>We were right. The next motel we had arrived at was littered with the bikes of the gang members and presumably Zayn as well. I was so excited to see him – and even more excited to show him the clothes I had picked out. </p><p>It felt so euphoric starting fresh like this – new friends, somewhere new to stay all of the time. It was so exhilarating. </p><p>Harry leads me toward Louis’ room where he said Zayn should be with his bag in his hand. It was not so subtle that he would be sharing this room with Louis and I found it endearing how nonchalant he was about it. </p><p>The two were sat on the couch, the TV playing in the background as they smoke cigarettes and drink beer. Zayn’s eyes immediately dart to mine and he springs up to greet me. </p><p>“Blondie,” he huffs, pulling me close. “How’d you go? I’ve missed you.” </p><p>“Well, I ended up buying enough to suffice.” I chuckle. “Harry helped me pick things out.” </p><p>“More so guided you than helped.” The youngest in the room winks and takes the closest seat to Louis who hands him over a drink. </p><p>“You got yourself something nice?” Zayn says expectantly, both eyebrows raised. I simply nod and fail to his lap as him and Louis continue whatever they were talking about – Harry adding his two cents at certain points. </p><p>“I’ll show you later.” He seemed to appreciate this, and he leaves a small kiss to my lips. </p><p>It was very relaxing to finally set-up camp for the night and three beers in, I felt like I was having the time of my life heeding in on the crazy stories Louis, Harry and Zayn were exchanging over drinks. I had maintained a solemn silence as it carried out – for no other reason than wanting to listen and embracing just how comfortable I felt in Zayn’s arms. Every so often, I felt his fingers brushing themselves through my hair. If it weren’t for Louis’ obnoxious laugh startling me once in a while, I’m sure I’d be passed out on Zayn’s lap. </p><p>Nothing seemed to be going wrong right now and in a matter of seconds, I knew I had cursed myself with this thought. </p><p>‘Breaking News! The son of Bradford Private Attorney Bobby Horan has gone missing. The 18-year-old student disappeared at his Bradford Academy residence yesterday morning and his parents suspect that the enormously violent gang ‘The Damnation’ may be linked to his disappearance as they too have fled town within the past 48 hours.’</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Breaking News! The son of Bradford Private Attorney Bobby Horan has gone missing. The 18-year-old student disappeared at his Bradford Academy residence yesterday morning and his parents suspect that the enormously violent gang ‘The Damnation’ may be linked to his disappearance as they too have fled town within the past 48 hours.’ </p><p>“Missing?” I tilt my head to the side and feel everything fall from around me. The bottle of beer in my hand, Zayn’s arm around my shoulder and the breath from my chest. </p><p>I didn’t know where to look. The TV screen had a very distinct school photo of me, one where I am shaking hands with the Headmaster as the reporter talks and talks – yet I don’t hear a single word; I could only hear the beating of my lucid heart and sharpness in my throat. </p><p>“Niall,” a familiar sob as my father stands tall in a suit gripped onto my solemn mother who weeps in white. “Niall, if you are out there please come home.” </p><p>They were standing together, each dressed as though they had something to prove in Prada and Tom Ford, in front of the fountain that was the centerpiece of our driveway. </p><p>“You have to be strong, Niall – like you always are.” Dad nods, emotionless and hard. “You need to outwit the delinquents who have taken you. Be smart, son.” </p><p>I am going to pass out. </p><p>“If you have any information about Niall’s whereabouts, please contact Bobby and Maura Horan at this email address. He was last seen in his Bradford Academy uniform.” </p><p>I had to leave. Between the shortness of my breath and the sweat dripping from my palms, I couldn’t bear to look at Louis, Harry – even Zayn, knowing what I had caused and the extent my parents were going to in order to get me back. </p><p>The door swings open, I’m sure with voices calling behind me, and I just run. I was in a town I forgot the name of, surrounded by people I had put in the worst situation, with no breath left in my lungs nor moisture in my throat and mouth. Until I hit a tree behind the roadside motel, I’m sure my legs were shaking through each step. </p><p>As I slide down the tree and cover my mouth, I don’t think I could have let out a bigger cry. My entire life, I had never so much as raised my voice and here I was put in a place where I could think of nothing else to do. </p><p>Selfish, needy and stupid – that’s what I am for doing this. For the first time in my life, I put myself first and chased a love I knew would be impossible. How could I go against my parents, knowing what they were capable of? I’m sure that they were rampant in the streets looking for me, wanting to bring me back and trap me in that dorm room. They had the world’s resources at their fingertips and if they looked hard enough, they’d be able to track me down. </p><p>All I did was fall in love with somebody. </p><p>“Blondie!” </p><p>I cringed hearing him call me. His voice had so much passion and care when it uttered this nickname. That was who I was to him; playful and light. Not Niall, Bobby Horan’s missing son. I was Blondie and even after this mess I had piled onto his already hectic life, he continues to call me it. </p><p>“Blondie, what are you doing?” He was almost breathless as he crouched and placed a hand over my arm. His eyes were deep and generous, so seemingly concerned with the pathetic boy in front of him. </p><p>“I’m so-so sorry Zayn,” I plead to him, “I’m sorry that I did this – I should’ve known they would do something like this, they have friends in the police and Dad knows the reporters at the Bradford news and oh god – the police are already looking for you-”</p><p>“Slow down-”</p><p>“I’ve absolutely screwed this up. I need to go home a-and tell the police I’m not missing, and you have nothing to do with it-”</p><p>“Blondie you can’t go to the police for anything.” He shakes his head firmly. “You just can’t. I need to figure out what to do, you just can’t go to the police.” </p><p>“Then what do I do?” My chest felt like it was going to explode. “Neither of us have done anything illegal. You didn’t take me against my will, I came to you – this is completely wrong and I just don’t know.” </p><p>He glances down at me once more and bites his lip. Oh, to know what was going through his head. I’m sure he hated me. </p><p>“Come with me.” He reaches forward and grabs my wrist. “I need… I need to think.” </p><p>“Okay.” That’s all I can whisper as he whisks me up and away from the tree. He was clearly on a mission – if the quick pace of his walk was anything to go by – and I could barely get any thought across my racing brain. </p><p>I felt sick as he leads me closer and closer toward the same motel room we had emerged from – just knowing Louis and Harry were in there. How could I have put them all in this situation? </p><p>“Okay,” Zayn grunts and reaches for the remote to shut off the TV. Harry was sat on the coffee table, a fist on his temple as he leant his elbow on his knees. Louis was now pacing up and down, as though he were in the same train of thought as his gang leader. “Blondie said his parents have friends in the force and with the news – they just put this story together to get him back.” </p><p>“They’re fucking crazy.” Harry exclaims, holding his arms out. “The cops are already on our back and now the pressure is doubled because of those entitled fucks.” </p><p>I felt nothing at those words. I couldn’t even disagree. </p><p>“What do we do?” It wasn’t so often that I saw Zayn asking advice off of anybody – but here, his eyes were desperate toward Louis. </p><p>“Niall needs to go to the police.” He says blatantly, arms crossed. </p><p>“No. No cops.” Zayn hits back. “Are you crazy? One word to them, they’ll know where we are and will start questioning us about what happened with the Scorpions and-”</p><p>“He needs to go to the police and let them know we are not affiliated.” Louis shakes his head before turning to me. “You will need to show physical proof to them that you’re unhurt – if that means lifting up your shirt or showing them your hands – so be it. You’ll have to say something like you ran away because you were stressed or some shit… something believable.” </p><p>“I can do that.” I nod about. “I can make up a lie about school to get them off your tail and say that I had never been affiliated with the gang-”</p><p>“No.” Zayn snaps and steps forward, eyes dark and unreadable. “That’s a stupid idea, you can’t go to the police and say that. They will ask too many questions and you’ll cave under the pressure. We have to think of something else.” </p><p>“Malik it’s seamless. The police will be off our backs and Blondie will be safe – what more do you want?” Louis huffs, ushering toward me. </p><p>“I won’t cave under the pressure, if you really want, we can map it out and plan everything I need to say-”</p><p>“No.” He was now directing this to me. “You’re not doing that Blondie. You’re not.” </p><p>“Malik,” Harry stands up. “This is the right thing to do. We can work out exactly what he needs to say, and I’ll drive him back up to Bradford tonight even. Then when we go to Greenwood tomorrow, the police will let out looking for us entirely-”</p><p>“Think of something else.” He grits to Harry as though it were a warning. “This perfect fucking plan of yours – it’s useless.”</p><p>“Useless? We’ll be off the police radar-”</p><p>“And I will lose Blondie. I’m not fucking going through that again.” </p><p>The room is silent – between the young apprentice glaring up at his boss and Louis watching on expectantly. My heart went out to Zayn and I suddenly absorbed his reasons for not wanting to go to the police at all. I couldn’t lose him either. </p><p>“Zayn,” the elder of the two sighs. “We’ll think of something. There has to be something else we can do.” </p><p>“Good.” The gang leader whispers and backs away from Harry. “Think of something then.” </p><p>Louis stays silent and as much as I wanted to reach forward and hold Zayn in my arms, I knew I had to listen for a plan I could commit to – in hopes of staying together. This is exactly what my parents would do. They’d get me back and when they did, they’d make sure I never saw Zayn again. I had other plans. </p><p>“Well,” Louis huffs, glancing over to me. “There’s one thing we can do that keeps you together.” </p><p>“What is it?” I whisper, not liking how he was looking at me. </p><p>“We hit the road.” It’s simple and I felt everything in my stomach drop. “Forget the shooting that happened in Bradford and whatever the hell Blondie’s parents want from us. We just go and don’t look back.” </p><p>“What about the gang?” Harry interjects. </p><p>“What about them? They’ll be coming with us. We can work out how to liquidate all the cash we have at the next place we go.” He explains before turning to Zayn. “Surely Declan will cover for us in Bradford – if anybody is going to keep the turf, it can be him.” </p><p>The gang leader says nothing and glances at his feet. </p><p>“You’ve been wanting to move the gang for a while now, Malik.” He lets out. “Well, let’s do it. We’ll be able find a new turf – up where your Dad runs things. We can get Blondie a fake ID, passport… whatever he needs. It’ll work that way.” </p><p>“I like it.” Harry whispers, grinning at Louis. “Just like your Dad did, Zayn.” </p><p>Zayn glares at him for this, eyes rather unreadable and I knew it all came down to his decision. Surprisingly, he turns to me once more. </p><p>“What do you want, Niall?” He utters out, and I felt the pressure of the world on my shoulders. “You realize if we do this… I move the gang and we get out of Bradford for good there’s no going back. You will be on the run and your whole life is going to change completely.” </p><p>A part of him looked rather nervous. I couldn’t tell why. </p><p>“This isn’t going to be dates at the cinema or bringing me home to meet your friends.” He shakes his head. “It’s going to be rough and completely different to everything you’ve ever had in your life.” </p><p>I bite my lip. </p><p>“But Blondie,” He whisper. “I will give you everything; the whole wide world. Just say the words I wanna’ hear.” </p><p>I don’t think I have ever made a decision quicker. </p><p>“When do we leave?” </p><p>Louis and Harry grin between themselves from beside me and Zayn reaches forward to clasp my face between his hands. I melted into his touch – so incredibly ready to begin this journey with the man I was falling so deep in love with. I kissed him and held him, not knowing what was next; only knowing I would be happier in his arms than back at home surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than their own self sufficiency at my expense. </p><p>“You’re crazy for doing this.” He whispers against my lips and I squeeze my eyes shut – agreeing. </p><p>“I’d do anything for you.” </p><p>He kisses me once more, as though it were the last time he could do so and I felt everything I had been warned about as a child slip out of the window and into the street. This was a change. This was exciting. This man, the one who held me in his hands, was now the center of my solar system.</p><p>And what a beautiful center to revolve around. </p><p>“What do you say Malik?” Louis seemed rather pleased too – if that grin on his face meant anything. “We’ll start going over the plans for tomorrow?” </p><p>“Yeah.” He pulls away only slightly and I just wanted him back. “We can do that tomorrow morning. Just let me have tonight, mate.” </p><p>“Well then, off you go.” He smirks toward his open door, as though to usher Zayn and I out of his and Harry’s room. “Take your time.” </p><p>“Thanks Louis – for everything.” I smile at him so tenderly and pick up my shopping bags from the door. He only winks back and ignites inside of me a true feeling of friendship and care. Harry folds his arms over and raises an eyebrow expectantly as he rivals Louis’ side and subtly leans into him – as though he were going to discuss this with me after. </p><p>“Thanks Tomlinson,” Zayn huffs and hikes up his jacket. “I owe you one, right?” </p><p>“Right.” Louis grins back, glancing between Harry and his best friend. “Enjoy.” </p><p>When Zayn and I are out of the motel room and the door practically hits our backs, I embrace him in the biggest hug I could muster. We were doing this. He was doing this. I was doing this. </p><p>“Thank you.” I whisper into his chest and he only held me tighter. I could smell the cologne on his chest and cigarette from his breath. His fingers were running rampant through my hair and I practically melted knowing this was it. </p><p>“We’ll be okay – you and me.” He murmurs. “I promise you that, Blondie.” </p><p>All I wanted to do was tell him how much I loved him and as candidly as it may be, it was much more frightening to utter those three words than to fully run away with him. He knew with this gesture I loved him, and I knew with his sacrifice he loved me. We will say it. Perhaps another time. </p><p>Back in the motel room, this one a little roomier, with a bedside lamp that clearly didn’t work and with the inconvenience of a bathtub over a shower, he kissed me with all of the might in his being and I held him for everything he was worth. </p><p>I love him and for that, I didn’t think twice about leaving it all behind.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Skipping an assembly. It was a morning in October, before choir rehearsal, when Liam slept through his first alarm and refused to get out of bed when I tried to wake him. I think I threw a pillow at his head and shook his torso until he finally opened both eyes. The first thing he did when he stood up was trip over a pair of runners, I had left on the floor the night prior and got a nosebleed. I don’t think I had ever laughed harder and the two of us spent the morning in fits of it – so much so that we completely forgot about the morning assembly. </p><p>That’s easily the craziest thing I had ever done. </p><p>Perhaps in simpler times, but that one break from the status quo of our everyday schedules seemed to be one of the funniest and enjoyable times in my life. </p><p>I was going to miss Liam. Despite everything.  </p><p>I would miss a lot of things about the life I was leaving behind. Perhaps the anonymity of it. It’s rather ironic that by getting a fake identity and hitting the road with a group of wanted men has made me less anonymous than when I was at the top of my class with parents who led exclusive lives. </p><p>Putting pen to paper and receiving a good grade, the hot chocolates at the cafeteria, walks throughout campus in Autumn and ordering from Liam and my favorite pizza place. The more I thought about it, the more I was reassured that this was the right decision. If that is all I could come up with from 18 years of living, it was pretty pathetic. </p><p>In the 48 hours I had spent out of Bradford and with Zayn, I had been reunited with the man I loved, lost my virginity, cultivated a friendship with a wanted criminal I had seen on the news many times, went shopping with a somebody who pushed me to dress outside of my boundaries and made the wild decision to run away and begin a life somewhere else. </p><p>Yes, this was the right decision. </p><p>I wasn’t just running away from Bradford. I was running away from the responsibility that shackled me from the moment I was born and inherited the Horan name. I was running away from controlling parents, a best friend who seemed to want the same thing that oppressed me and a man who stood as a representation of everything I was supposed to have.</p><p>And as Zayn’s arms tightened around me and his shirtless chest pressed against my back, I knew that I needed to turn to him and tell him that I loved him – I just needed to do it. He had saved me from a life of unhappiness and uncertainty as we set out on the road today in search of a new life for ourselves. </p><p>I couldn’t wait to see what he’d say-</p><p>“Morning, Blondie.” He leaves a small kiss to the back of my neck and I soften into his touch and suck in a big breath. I had been awake perhaps an hour just running over the entire plan in my head. I had to weigh all of the pros and cons and ensure its perfection. </p><p>For now, I was glad to have the company. </p><p>“I dreamt about you… and us… somewhere besides this shithole.” He murmurs, holding me closer and I let out a breathy chuckle at the grumpiness in his voice. </p><p>“Where are we in your dream?” </p><p>“In a nice big place of our own,” he lets out huskily. “No cops, no noise, just us and an ocean view. What do you think?” </p><p>I stare toward the view peeping out from the widow by the bed. I could just see the motel rooms across from us where Scott was leant against it smoking and yelling at somebody on the phone. </p><p>“I think I’d kill for that.” </p><p>His hand grips my hipbone and he turns me so my back faces the bed and eyes can gaze at his sleepy head. With hair messed upon his forehead and silver chain dangling down, I don’t think he had ever looked more handsome. Each tattoo littered his skin and he still smelt of the cologne from the night before. I was almost swooning. </p><p>“You looked just as beautiful in my dream.” He whispers down to me. “A little different though.” </p><p>I raise an eyebrow and fold an arm around my head. </p><p>“You had a tan, from being at the beach all day.” He and I both chuckle at this. “And you had wet hair with a little bit of sand in it… a little flower behind your ear too.” </p><p>I couldn’t help but frown internally at how his face dropped as he described his dream. I still had to get to the bottom of what his goal with the gang would be and why he uses it as a means of an income. What was he building toward? </p><p>Glancing to the bedside table, I barely hesitated in reaching over and grabbing the plastic white flower amongst a bouquet of other white plastic flowers sat in a glass vase. While this motel was far from fancy, the tacky little touches like this meant a lot for this moment. </p><p>His eyes were so fixated on my movements as I tucked it behind my ear and leant back into the pillow. I can only smile at him back. </p><p>“Sorry about my lack of tan.” I chuckle, glancing down at my chest. “But this is the best I can give you right now.” </p><p>He shakes his head and cups the side of my face. It’s like his touch was second nature to me. </p><p>“It’s perfect – you’re perfect, Blondie.” The way he said this validated every single decision I was making. I couldn’t wait to spend this time with him and let him know I loved him in all of the actions I could muster. </p><p>“Thank you for all of this, Zayn.” I whisper. “Really… You doing this means the world to me.” </p><p>“Anything, my love.” </p><p>He embraces me in yet another warm kiss I would think about forever. Everything he did… it all solidified the love and affection I held inside. Right now, was so perfect… I had to tell him. </p><p>“Zayn,” I hold in a breath as he slowly begins to open his eyes from the kiss we had just shared. “There’s something that I have thought about… and I just need to tell you. I can’t wait to just tell you…” </p><p>He smiles out of the corner of his mouth. </p><p>“I…” </p><p>A bang startles me. It sounded like it was coming from next door and I watched as Zayn’s head snaps up and glances at the wall as though to figure out what it was. </p><p>There it goes again… and again… and again… </p><p>I couldn’t quite figure out what the noise was and why it obeyed such a steady rhythm until I felt Zayn’s head against my chest, and he grunts into it. </p><p>“I’m going to fucking kill them.” </p><p>While I knew Louis and Harry shared the room next to us – as platonically as they wanted us to believe – I didn’t realize the walls would be this thin or that their relationship was as steady as it sounded. </p><p>“They’re not… you know…” </p><p>“Of course they are, Blondie.” He mutters, pulling away from me. “They do this everywhere we go. Constantly… Always… It happens at the worst times as well.”</p><p>“B-But I thought they were only friends.” This seemed naïve but as strange as their relationship was to me, I took Louis’ word for it. I really am gullible sometimes. </p><p>He pulls away and almost snorts. </p><p>“Did Tomlinson tell you that?” He lets out. “He is obsessed with Styles. They’ve been going at it since he’s been an apprentice for the gang.” </p><p>“Huh…” I mutter off, kind of uncomfortable at the symphony of noises from next door. </p><p>“They keep things on the low – like I’m unaware of the relationship.” He shakes his head as though it had been annoying him for a while. </p><p>“Surely they know you’re conscious they’re sleeping together.” I huff. “I mean, how can you not hear that?”</p><p>“No, no Blondie.” He shakes his head. “They know that I’m aware of the sex – I’ve had to listen to Tomlinson brag about it every other day as though that slack kid is his greatest accomplishment.” </p><p>I narrow my eyes at the back-handed remark toward Harry. </p><p>“They think I’m unaware of the relationship.” He then clarifies. “He knows I don’t want anybody in my gang together… it complicates things and makes it hard to get shit done.”</p><p>“Then why haven’t you told him you know?” </p><p>“Because… Because he’s happy.” He presses a shoulder forward. “As far as I know, them being together hasn’t fucked anything up for the gang. If it keeps his mouth shut and focused on what needs to be done – I guess I can put up with pretending I don’t see it.” </p><p>“You really care about him, huh?” </p><p>“He’s my brother, Blondie.” He mutters out, as though showing this sort of platonic affection was something to be ashamed of. “I gotta’ look out for him.” </p><p>Another bang to the headboard and I almost cringe. </p><p>“I think it’s very sweet you look out for him.” I sit myself up. “But I think it’d be best if we leave this room and just go… literally anywhere else.” </p><p>“Good idea.” He murmurs and leans over to peck my lips once more. “What did you want to tell me again?” </p><p>As much as I loved Zayn, I didn’t want to tell him this as the sound of the headboard hitting the wall signified Louis and Harry in some rough intercourse. I was fine for now. </p><p>“Nothing.” I shake my head firmly. “Let’s get ready.” </p><p>After Zayn threw on a muscle-hugging black t-shirt, jeans and gang jacket, I felt utter excitement in delving into my new wardrobe of clothes, seeing what it represented for my new life. I never quite had the privilege of choosing what to wear – beside my uniform. But today, today was different. </p><p>This meant black jeans and Converse, and a pastel green button up shirt. Perhaps I looked rather… extroverted… but I sure felt pretty. </p><p>“Is that what you picked?” Zayn raises an eyebrow, emerging from the bathroom with an unlit cigarette between his teeth and silver rings at his knuckles. </p><p>I nod. </p><p>“You look beautiful, Blondie.” He quickly removes the smoke from his mouth and pecks my cheek. “I love the color.” </p><p>Perhaps it is rather odd and embarrassing that such a compliment could lift my spirits and build up this vendetta even higher against my old life… but I felt on top of the world. </p><p>“Keep dressing that way and I’ll have to give ya’ all of my racing money to go and buy more pretty things, hm?” He smirks, bringing it back to his mouth and finishing up packing our bags. </p><p>By now I’m sure I looked like a peach. </p><p>The banging next door had ceased as we had each gotten ready. As much as I wanted to stay in bed and do all sorts of things with the man I loved, I couldn’t quite concentrate knowing exactly what was going on in the room beside us. When I glanced out of the window that faced the car-park, I couldn’t help but notice a large part of the gang congregated by their bikes, their gang jackets intact. </p><p>It was odd to see them all together in the attire. Of course, a handful or so always did represent the gang with the jacket or vest – but there were always the odd couple who wore a hoodie or denim jacket. Perhaps there was a dress code today. </p><p>As I observed Louis strutting out of his room next door to meet a few men in the middle of the carpark as though he had won a million pounds, I too took note of his jacket and the way he wore it with pride. This is my future… as part of this pack. </p><p>“Everyone is dressed up in the Damned apparel today.” A blatant observation I’m sure Zayn felt was mundane and nothing out of the ordinary. He turns to me after zipping up a black duffle back and pocketing something in his jeans.</p><p>“Gotta’ stand out somehow, Blondie.” And that was that… very casual and peppy. He seemed rather excited for something and I tilted my head to the side trying to work out what. </p><p>“Do we want to stand out when there may be people looking for us around here?” </p><p>He turns to me with a smug smile, as though I had said something that was utterly obvious to solve. </p><p>“You don’t know about the races, do ya’?” </p><p>“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I don’t.” </p><p>“Well,” he huffs. “Tomlinson and I got a call last night from an old friend who runs a little race every so often.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” </p><p>“Yeah.” He nods, reaching out to grip my wrist. </p><p>“We’ve competed at every single one.” He says as though it were the easiest thing in the world. “And we win every single time.” </p><p>I huff to myself, trying to gather everything I had heard so far. </p><p>“So you all… race each other? I’m assuming for money?” </p><p>“Bingo.” He smirks and squeezes my cheek. “It’s multiple races that go on. You volunteer for one and waive an amount of cash. If you win, you get to keep it and your opponent’s input. You lose, you lose it all.” </p><p>“Sounds like it has high stakes.” I bite my lip. </p><p>“It does… If you’re stupid and spend all your money racing somebody you’re not going to win against.” He begins to tap his still unlit cigarette on his knee – most likely busting to smoke his first one of the day. “But if you’re like me…” </p><p>“Oh of course.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Who would dare race the big bad Zayn Malik, right?” </p><p>He smirks. </p><p>“You don’t mind tagging along, Blondie?” He whispers and I shake my head. “It’ll be our last stop before we hit the road.” </p><p>Quite obviously, I was nervous and terrified to death about the entire ordeal. But if I was committing to Zayn and committing to this life, I guess I had to remove myself from my safe position on the edge and dive head-first into a world of illegal street races and events where a motorcycle gang voluntarily wanted to represent their name. </p><p>“It sounds fun. I’m ready to go.” </p><p>Apart of me wanted to sit here in this nice motel room and read the phone book. But my father once told me that to be idle in a situation that arose so much opportunity, would be a waste of my mind. </p><p>Ironic how this advice he told me once upon a time led me outside to my boyfriend’s motorcycle as he finally had his first cigarette of the morning. </p><p>“You’re looking chipper this morning,” I felt somebody slip beside me as I leant upon Zayn’s bike. “And I’m happy we went for the green shirt. Malik must be happy.” </p><p>“Good morning, Harry.” I coyly smile as he acted so nonchalant. He and I were the only two without jackets and while he covered this up with a baggy graphic white T-shirt that exposed the few tattoos on his arms, I knew that all he wanted was to be covered in the same leather as the gang. “And yes, Zayn did like the shirt.” </p><p>He reaches into his pocket to grab a cigarette and brings it to his lips as he leans his head back to soak in the rare occasion of sunlight. It was rather warm today and the attitude of everybody around was undoubtedly infectious. Somehow, a part of me was increasingly intrigued by this venture at the races. </p><p>“Had a shit sleep.” He mutters, trying to spark casual conversation. “I need to stop watching late night TV because it just keeps me up.” </p><p>I raise an eyebrow. </p><p>“You woke up early this morning, didn’t you?” </p><p>He pauses and sucks in a breath. </p><p>“Not exactly – why?” He acted so casual and I cleared my throat as what he exhaled got caught in my line of breath.</p><p>“Oh nothing.” I shake my head. “I just thought I heard… movement this morning.” </p><p>He smiles coyly to himself and sucks in another large breath of his smoke once more. </p><p>“Unless that was something else.” I quickly interject. “You probably left the TV on from the night before, right?” </p><p>“Okay Blondie.” He nods about, still that infectious grin to his lips. “You think you’re clever – huh?” </p><p>“I never said that. I was just startled by how thin the walls in this place are.” </p><p>His grin strengthens. </p><p>“Look,” he flicks the ash to the ground. “Tomlinson and I… this is just something we do on the side.” </p><p>That doesn’t sound quite right. </p><p>“It’s nothing deep. He’s helping me get a place in the gang and… I’m helping him with other things.” </p><p>“Harry,” I pause, reminiscing over everything Zayn told me about their relationship and remembering his distinct point that they hid it. I guess it wasn’t my place to let him know that his and Louis’ efforts to put on a platonic façade and act as though everything was just sex was already foiled by the man they were trying to fool. Perhaps this is for another day. “So that sort of situation… you’re happy with it?” </p><p>I had to act as though I had no idea, and this was the first I had heard of anything. I just wish he knew Zayn didn’t quite resent it as much as they thought. </p><p>“Yeah.” He nods about. “I’ve slept with plenty of people to get places.” </p><p>“Mm-hmm.” I murmur, not believing a word of it. </p><p>“Trust me,” he says as cool as ever. “It’s hard to get laid on the road. It’s good to have someone nearby who is very willing to help out there.” </p><p>I follow his gaze to Louis who was sheathed in black aviators, sitting upon his bike with a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. </p><p>“Well, whatever makes you happy, Harry.” </p><p>He seemed to appreciate this as he nudges me with his shoulder. He loved to put on a mask that he was so cool and hard to read but I was beginning to see through him. We had a lot in common and by the looks of things – the way he longingly gazed toward Louis – I knew he had the same sort of love in his eye as I had toward Zayn. </p><p>Eventually Zayn returned back to his bike and we all set off in formation to wherever the hell this race was going to be. I was quite literally going along for the ride riddled in fear yet able to function knowing the man I loved and all of those that surrounded him were going to be there. Nothing could quite get to me if they were around. </p><p>I’m not sure what I expected when we ventured further and further into the country. Small towns turned into farmlands, farmlands turning into industrial ghost-towns. It didn’t take too long to reach a stretch of open road that we couldn’t continue down anymore due to the event held. It stressed me out how susceptible this position was for police intervention, but as we pulled up and Zayn looked as confident as ever, that one thought bubble seemed to float away.  </p><p>There were maybe 100 motorcycles parked around the dusty road. They were in clusters, differing jackets intermingling – some groups didn’t even seem to be from a gang, just here for a good time and to voyeur. </p><p>I could smell petrol in the air, and I don’t think I had been anywhere so loud. Revving engines, boisterous chatter and music polluted my hearing and Zayn had never seemed more at home. </p><p>The tone did seem to shift as the Damned emerged from the bikes. I noticed a few men glance up, grimace and then look down. There were some that glared and spoke between themselves, and others that grinned. I felt my stomach in my knees as I watched those that did smile begin to pace toward the gang. </p><p>My seated position alone on Zayn’s bike had never seemed so comfortable and safe. </p><p>“You alright, Blondie?” Zayn seemed to be coming down from a high. He was clearly taking in the sight, smell and sound of the event – as though it was something he had been looking forward to. </p><p>“Fine.” I quickly jump from the bike and reassure him that I was okay and completely 100% calm. Even though I love Zayn, I’m not afraid to put on the mask that this didn’t terrify me. </p><p>“You’ll be okay, I promise.” He swings an arm around my shoulder. “You’ve got me and the guys – nobody will touch ya’ if they see you with me.” </p><p>“Why are people looking this way?” I whisper up to him as he grins, looking around the dusty race street track with such ease and confidence. It wasn’t quite hard to notice the men glancing at Zayn and talking amongst themselves. I wanted nothing more than to know what they were saying. </p><p>“Well,” as he pulls me into him, I can’t help but inhale the second-hand smoke stuck to his jacket as we walk along, “Some people here… they’re not my biggest fans in the world.” </p><p>“Really?” My knees felt like jelly. “Why? Why is that? They’re not going to hurt you, are they?” </p><p>He chuckles coyly and glances back down at me. </p><p>“Nobody is gonna’ touch me.” He huffs. “Nobody will care about me once they see you and how pretty you look today.” </p><p>“Zayn.” I felt my cheeks tint red. </p><p>“Blondie,” he holds me tighter as we – and the other men of his gang – come face to face with some familiar people. “You remember Declan, right?” </p><p>I clear my throat incoherently, feeling as though I was swimming with sharks. While I knew that may not be far from the truth, I just had to swallow all that held me back and be the partner Zayn wanted me to be. I know I am not strong nor am I able hold my own with people from school – let alone a gang leader who smokes cigars and watched me as though I were something to be studied – but if I was able to take the plunge and leave my old life behind, I would be able to reintroduce myself and spark some sort of conversation with this stranger. </p><p>“Niall, is it?” He had that charming smile – ah yes… I remember him now. He always looked like a man who both belonged in another industry and yet, looked so right in a position of power in this underground world. </p><p>“Declan.” I smile back, swallowing my insecurity. “It’s lovely to see you again.” </p><p>“Lovely?” He raises an eyebrow with a smirk before turning to Zayn. “You hear that Malik? I don’t think anybody has used to word ‘lovely’ when speaking to me in a long, long time.” </p><p>Zayn chuckles and holds me closer. </p><p>“This one has himself a nice education and manners.” He was watching me lovingly, as though I was something to be shown off to his friend. “Brightens my day up with how he speaks.” </p><p>“Well in that case,” the man in front of me adjusts his jacket and I can read so clearly ‘VIPERS’ on the red accented black leather that he was their ‘leader.’ “It’s lovely to see you too, Niall.” </p><p>I can only smile in response and tuck my hand behind my back. </p><p>“I gotta’ say, Malik, you really do surprise me.” He looks my boyfriend up and down. </p><p>“Oh yeah?” </p><p>“Yeah.” He mentions huskily. “Settling down for once in your life… it suits you.” </p><p>Zayn holds me a little tighter. </p><p>“Thanks mate, I’m happy.” I couldn’t quite shake just how content Zayn was here. This seemed like everything he described that he wanted; power, respect and sovereignty over the nightlife, all in one. </p><p>“What does…” Declan lets out between lighting a potent cigar and bringing it to his lips, “What does your dad think of this?” </p><p>“It’s not something for him right now.” </p><p>“It’s not?” Declan chuckles before turning to me. “You haven’t met his Dad yet?” </p><p>“No, no I haven’t.” Both Declan and I turn expectantly to Zayn who glances at the floor with now hardened eyes. </p><p>“You don’t need to Blondie.” He mentions, loud enough for us all to hear. “Maybe one day, hm?” </p><p>“Maybe.” Declan lets out, inhaling his cigar once again with the upmost ease.</p><p>The backtrack of loud bikes and the chatter beside us fuels the silence between the three of us and I just knew that Zayn didn’t want to talk about the father he failed to mention. Perhaps I could muster up the courage to interject. </p><p>“Declan,” I pep up, standing a little straighter and holding my head up. “Do you participate in the erm… the races?” </p><p>If my upbringing had taught me anything, it showed me how to speak to those in a position of power. And while Zayn’s dominance and leadership were once intimidating to me before I fell in love with him, Declan seemed to also hold a similar feel.</p><p>He grins down at me. </p><p>“Sometimes,” he looks about. “I’m more of an… observant guy. I like to watch the races.” </p><p>“It seems like quite the sport.” I huff, noticing at the beginning of the track two motorcyclists gearing up to race. </p><p>“It is.” He chuckles. “But if you’re wanting to talk about somebody who participates in them, you’ll have to look no further than Malik here.” </p><p>We both glance up at my beau. </p><p>“What do they say about you again?” He ponders off. “Oh yeah – the guy who has never lost a single race.” </p><p>“Is that true?” I couldn’t help but smile. I felt something tingle in my stomach. Just the thought of Zayn never losing and coming out on top thrilled me. His succession in this world – the most I knew about it – was utterly attractive. I can’t wait to get to the next place we’re staying. </p><p>“Well,” He smirks, clearly pleased by the compliment. “I can’t say they’re wrong.” </p><p>“What do you think, Niall?” Declan grins down to me. “Would you like to see this for yourself?” </p><p>I look up to Zayn and beam. </p><p>“Of course.” </p><p>“You’re sure?” Zayn huffs, exclusively to me. “If I go race, you’ll have to stick around with Tomlinson-”</p><p>“Nonsense.” Declan interjects. “You’re family Malik. That makes Niall family too. He can come and watch from my camp.” </p><p>I watch the man I love look around a few times, as though he were studying the scenery and making a plan in his head. In all honesty, I had no qualms in going with Declan – so long as it meant I could watch Zayn do what he does best: rule this world. </p><p>“I don’t know, mate.” He sucks in a breath. </p><p>“It’s fine.” I perk up. “Really… I’m happy to watch.” </p><p>“See? I like him already.” He cheers. “You get yourself sorted, Malik and I will get Niall acquainted with some of my guys, yeah?” </p><p> “You’re sure?” He raises an eyebrow down to my firm nod. </p><p>“Fantastic. I’ll let you see him off and you can come and find me down near the betting area.” Declan advises. “I look forward to seeing you – it will be lovely.” </p><p>I let out a small chuckle and watch him wink at Zayn before he saunters off. </p><p>“You’re sure you don’t wanna’ sit with Tomlinson?” He motions toward his best friend who seemingly had set up camp of his own with other members of the Damned. They all had beers in their hands and a great view of the race – unsurprisingly.</p><p>“I’m fine.” I shake my head. “Declan seems really nice.” </p><p>“It’s not him I’m worried about.” He mutters. “You can’t trust anyone at these races.” </p><p>“I’ll be fine – I promise.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to go and have fun.” </p><p>He sighs, tilting my chin up with his pointer finger. </p><p>“You’ll be the end of me one day, Blondie.” He murmurs out, smirking. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to look out for somebody at the track before.” </p><p>“Well you don’t have to look out for me.” I reassure him. “Now off you go. I want to see you win.” </p><p>He leans forward and pecks my check, that coy little smile to his lips. </p><p>“At least… At least have this.” As he pulls away, I watch as he peels his gang jacket from his back, leaving him in tight black t-shirt that exposed every muscle and highlighted the art on his arms and that which cascaded up his neck. </p><p>He nestles me in his jacket – albeit too big on me, yet utterly comfortable – and I felt all of the reassurance rush over. </p><p>“You’re safe now.” He looks me up and down and puffs out the collar. </p><p>I couldn’t help but grin. </p><p>“Nobody fucks with anybody wearing a jacket like this.” I feel his finger press exactly where ‘President’ was sewn into the leather. “I need to get my bike… you sure you’re fine going to stay with the Vipers?” </p><p>“I’m perfectly fine.” </p><p>“Well then,” he seemed surprised by this confidence I had surging through me. “I will see you when I’m a little bit richer, hm?” </p><p>“Okay. Good luck out there.” Up on my tippy-toes, I leave a kiss to his cheek and he saunters off to the bikes to retrieve his own. </p><p>I was truly by myself in a sea of men I didn’t know and frankly, didn’t want to. While I could clearly see Louis, Harry and the others, I upheld my promise to Declan and sheepishly followed the path to where he and a lot of his large gang were all congregating by. </p><p>Keeping my hands in the pockets of the jacket and avoiding absolutely anybody who looked in this direction, I found my way into the Viper camp with a group of people who had no visible idea who I was or why I was here. </p><p>Declan was leant against the fence, watching on as though it were a football match. </p><p>“Lovely to see you made it.” He smirks as I rival him. “This is the best spot to view the races, take it all in.” <br/>I did as he said. My breath just about left my lungs as I watched two racers fly by – neck in neck – with people surrounding them cheering. It was something to be marveled. It truly made me think about the sheer capacity of the underworld and those who ruled it. It especially highlighted the fact that everybody here seemed to be rather civil and the gang rivalries I had only heard about in the news, seemed to exist elsewhere. I wonder where that group of gangs who have issues with the ones present were. <br/>After a while, it got rather lonely in Declan’s group. He often made small-talk with me before turning to somebody else in his gang to carry on this conversation. They all cheered very loudly at each race and were passing cash between themselves. They even had somebody racing – who won. Declan seemed ecstatic. <br/>And as he carried on and on about how it was he who had trained the rider who brought them a victory, I utilised this time to move a little closer to the race-track – where ironically it was more quiet – in hopes of fully being present by the time Zayn got to the starting line. <br/>I couldn’t quite ignore the anxiety in my chest thinking about how he was going to do this highly dangerous activity for the pleasure of others to view and for his own personal ego. I wanted it to go as smoothly as possible, with hopes that it did anything but harm him. <br/>It’s right about now where I’d rather be chatting with Harry and Louis about who-knows-what? I guess sitting here on the edge of the track and right against the wire fence was the best I could possible yield for now. <br/>“Nice jacket.” A voice, a new voice, lets out and before I know it, they are plopping themselves down next to me with ease. “Where did you find it?” <br/>I let out a small cough in hopes of clearing my throat before fully taking in the man who decided to take the seat so close to me. <br/>He was rather thin – pale too. My eyes went straight to the black ring pierced into his eyebrow, and the small silver ball that lived beneath the left side of his lips. Amongst all of these, he had a nose ring – which seemed the most normal of all. Blue eyes, black hair, and jacket-less. I couldn’t quite put my finger on whether or not he was somebody belonging to Declan’s gang – or just a guy who decided to sit by me and spark a conversation. <br/>Either way, I felt my nervousness arise – especially with how he was looking at me. He seemed curious in a way. His head tilted to the side and those big eyes kept pressuring to enter my space. I didn’t know whether to shuffle away or simply pretend I didn’t hear him. <br/>I guess I just went with the latter. <br/>“Oh no…” He trails off. “You’re some kind of mute – aren’t you?” <br/>He chuckled to himself as though what he had just said was the funniest thing in the world. <br/>“I was warned about your kind.” His fake concern seemed to be so utterly amusing to him. “Do you have a pen and paper or something? You know, so you can write down answers to the things I’m asking you.” <br/>This guy just wouldn’t quit.<br/>“I’m not a mute.” <br/>“I knew it! Do you wanna’ know how I knew it?” He chuckles once more. “Because if you really were a mute, you’d have a pen and paper handy. All you have is somebody else's jacket and a really, really nice watch on. Wow. That must have cost you a lot of cash. Do you mind if I try it on?” <br/>He was speaking so fast, each phrase more concerning and stranger as they went on. I didn’t even know where to start. <br/>Instinctively, I pocket my left hand that had the watch I had received last birthday. <br/>“Can I… Can I help you?” That is absolutely all I could muster. I didn’t know if he was going to rob me, attack me, converse with me or continue to call me a mute. </p><p>“I’ve asked you this twice now.” He tilts his head to the side and toys with his lip piercing with his tongue. “Where did you get that jacket?” </p><p>I glance forward, recognizing Zayn’s back facing toward me as he sat on his bike by the starting line with a helmet covering his head. </p><p>All I can do is point to that source. </p><p>“Holy shit!” He exclaims. “Did you steal that from him? You realize he’ll kill you for that?” </p><p>I blink again. </p><p>“No… No, he gave it to me.” I clarify. “I’m sorry, do you know Zayn or something?” </p><p>“Well no,” he tilts his head to the side. “I know of Zayn.” </p><p>“Well, he gave me the jacket to wear while I watch him race.” </p><p>“Right.” He whispers, looking down at it once more. “You must be Niall Horan.” </p><p>As he said my full name my eyes widened and completely disregarding Zayn lining up at the starting line where a scantily clad woman in nothing more than denim shorts and a tank-top held a flag, I had to turn to this crazy person. </p><p>“How do you know who I am?” </p><p>“You’re the kid from the news.” He chuckles out. “You’re missing, aren’t you?” </p><p>“I’m not missing.” I shake my head firmly. “Clearly.” </p><p>“Clearly.” He repeats what I just said before glancing down at the jacket once more. “You’re just a jacket stealer with a nice watch.” </p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t steal this jacket?” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I really didn’t. But seeing as his only reaction is to smirk and continue to observe me so closely, I had no other choice. “He’s my boyfriend. I’m just wearing it while he races.” </p><p>He grins. </p><p>“You’re funny.” He continues off. “But you need to lighten up.” </p><p>“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Seeing as he never quite dropped the overtly friendly façade, I slightly felt bad for raising my voice at him. “I do need to lighten up. I’ve just been very stressed lately.” </p><p>“Stressed?” He exclaims as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. “I’m your guy.” </p><p>“You are?” I hesitate. </p><p>“Yeah, I’m your guy.” He repeats with a nod. “I can give you whatever you need to take the edge off.” </p><p>I blink. While I wouldn’t mind a drink, I don’t think I trusted this guy to get it for me. The sound of an engine revving startles me and pulls me from this thought and I completely turn my attention back to the race. </p><p>Zayn was sat on his bike, holding onto the handles with expertise while his opponent – a clearly larger, arguably older man, followed this preparation in suit. </p><p>The same woman from before, the one in the denim shorts, who is now proficiently making eye-contact with my boyfriend stands out between the bikes and holds a scarf in the air. I felt my stomach at my knees and heart in my hands waiting in anticipation for the race to begin. </p><p>All I could hope and pray for, is Zayn’s safety. The competitive side of me felt obligated to want him to win. </p><p>She raises the scarf in the air. </p><p>The crowd begins to soften. </p><p>I had never felt so nervous observing an activity like this. </p><p>All I wanted to do was to reach out and make sure he was fully prepared and-</p><p>“Did you hear what I said?” All of my thoughts disintegrate, and I turn back to this strange guy who just wouldn’t leave me alone. </p><p>The bikes reach their maximum volume and I quickly snap my head to see that the race had started, and Zayn was speeding off, swirling the dust behind him. Shit. </p><p>“I have a few things I’m sure you’d like.” He grins, as though I had time for this right now. </p><p>“I’m sorry but now is really not the right time.” I snap. “I don’t want anything to take the edge off and if anything, I’d rather be left alone to watch my boyfriend race.” </p><p>He grins back at me. </p><p>“I think you really do need the edge off. All you have to do is follow me back to my bike – I have lots of things to choose from-”</p><p>“Oh god,” I roll my eyes and position my back to block him out. “This is impossible.” </p><p>Seemingly, the next time I look up at the race they are bounding down the home stretch and back toward the line where they initially set off. It felt like a spoiler to see Zayn lengths in front of his opponent and while a part of me was ecstatic to see him cross that finish line and solidify that famed win-streak, I missed so much of it and owed it all to the absolute crazy guy who had taken the seat next to me. </p><p>I could hear Declan and other members of his gang cheering behind me. It wasn’t quite as loud as the stare I was still receiving that I could feel out of the corner of my eye. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” I stand to my feet and look down at this strange boy once more. “I don’t know how to help you. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and see Zayn.”</p><p>In that, I turned on my heel and quietly left Declan’s camp before he even noticed so I could get to Zayn, give him a big kiss and completely act like I saw the entire thing, so he didn’t worry. </p><p>On my way to the front of the track, where Zayn was seemingly surrounded by many people who were utterly invested in his win, I had never been so thankful to see Louis. </p><p>“Oh Louis,” I sigh, almost lunging at him. “I’ve been looking for you.” </p><p>“Did you watch Malik?” He grins. “Typical of him. Cutting the guy off in the last leg of the race – it’s dirty but it gets him the win, huh?” </p><p>“Right.” I snap quickly. “I did like how he… cut the guy off.” </p><p>He throws an arm around my shoulder and chuckles. </p><p>“How did it go up with the Vipers? Did Declan try and suck every morsel of information out of you?” </p><p>“No, no.” I huff. “I watched the race a little closer to the fence.” </p><p>He nods about and I suck in a breath, curiosity eating me. </p><p>“Hey Louis,” I halt the two of us before we even reach the starting line where Zayn was. I turn toward the viewing area I previously had occupied. “Who is that guy right there?” </p><p>He squints his eyes and steps a little closer. As I didn’t dare point, I tried to aim him toward that strange guy as best as I could. </p><p>“That guy?” He gapes. “Why? Why do you want to know? Did he do something to you?” </p><p>The genuine concern in his voice made me gulp. </p><p>“No.” I shake my head. “He was just so strange – wouldn’t stop talking to me during the race, so much so I missed most of it. Is he… bad?” </p><p>“He’s one of the newer guys in Declan’s crew.” He mutters. “The guy is an absolute psychopath – has given Harry a lot of trouble in the path.” </p><p>“Oh goodness, really?” I whisper. </p><p>“Yeah. There’s a rumor going around that he ran over somebody after a race once – just for fun.” He murmurs. “Declan does all of his damage control, but I heard he is a loose cannon.” </p><p>“Thank god I didn’t stick around too long then.” I say, more to myself than anything. </p><p>“His name is Max.” He nods. “Max… Max Something. I don’t know – I’ve never paid too much attention to the whack-job. People say that he always has a motive for every single thing he does.” </p><p>“Well, I’m back with you guys now.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I won’t worry about it.” </p><p>“Just steer clear.” He nods again. “You’ll get the hang of how things run down here – don’t you worry.”  </p><p>As I reached the same vicinity as Zayn, I let out a sigh of relief. While my first day in this life held nothing more than anxiety, fear and pushing the limits of what I could do in these types of situations, seeing the man I loved as the light at the end of the tunnel made it all worth it. </p><p>Just to be in his arms and finally tell him how I felt… I would endure a track like this with the people who occupy it a million times over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone! I’m so sorry it has taken me a long time to get this up and I really am appreciative of all of the comments and love this has gotten so far! </p>
<p>Apart from some technical issues on my end (chapter deleting itself and constantly needing to be rewritten) I truly wanted to take some time for more important voices to be heard; voices that will be written in every notable history book from now on. </p>
<p>Black Lives Matter. Indigenous Lives Matter. Black Trans Lives Matter. Sign the petitions. Donate to worthy causes. Speak up on whatever platform you use and spread a message of love to trump the hate we need to eliminate from society. </p>
<p>If you need any resources at all (such as a list of petitions to sign, carefully researched charities and bailout funds to donate to, Indigenous Australian funds, protesting safely amidst COVID-19 advice or just somebody to talk to about anything – PLEASE feel free to inbox me for my personal Instagram where I can provide these for you. </p>
<p>Here is a lengthier chapter – while unimportant and insignificant in these trying times where we all need to band together, I hope it allows you to take a moment to breathe and live through this point of view for a moment. </p>
<p>All my love, </p>
<p>Pazzypoo xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I could never quite tell what was going on in his head. He smiled – sometimes, but only behind closed doors. He held something deeper in his dark eyes around the gang that succeeded the passion and fire he showed toward me at night. </p>
<p>It is in the way he held my hand, juvenile and comforting, the way he hummed to a Kings of Leon song as he showered and brushed his teeth, the way he snorted every few laughs and seemed so pedantic about folding his clothes neatly before we set off to the next motel… it all made me forget exactly who I was sleeping next to at night. </p>
<p>If I were to take away all of the noise in the background… the gang, the way they followed his orders as though their lives depended on it, the secretive phone calls I knew he only made when I was in the shower before he would jump in, the gun I had seen him hide only twice when he assumed my eyes were elsewhere, the large tattoo on his back that bled his lifestyle into his skin… I would see him as just the person I was utterly in love with. </p>
<p>Undoubtedly, this didn’t scare me. By now, I’m not sure what would. </p>
<p>I just felt out of the loop. He was one man to me and a complete other I knew nothing about. He always held a burden on his chest, always locked the door twice at night and checked his phone constantly. </p>
<p>He knew that life was getting harder here on the road. We had been travelling an entire week now and each motel became more rundown than the next. Hardly a bother to me, it seemed like the opposite for him. His head seemed tangled in between balancing an imaginary expectation he thought I might have of him and the weight of being the President of men who looked up to and depended on him. </p>
<p>They hadn’t been out anywhere, and I knew it was killing him inside. I need to step in and do something… before he realises that I’m a mistake that has cost him too much to uphold. <br/>Each motel… while more rundown than the next… was a small paradise. I had never felt such happiness or bliss in all of my life. I would spend my days with Harry – who actually seemed to lighten up and joke around every so often with a beer or two under his belt and enjoy the wisdom and irreverent humour Louis volleyed across. </p>
<p>With Zayn, I couldn’t quite contain the ever-flowing love that did nothing but accumulate. I don’t think I had even thought of my old life… not when the one he has given me is the best thing to ever happen to me. </p>
<p>We would fall asleep in each other’s arms and legs entangled with only the dim streetlamps and symphony of passing cars on the highway invading our space. Some nights at a mere three O’clock in the morning I’d feel his hand tighten around my waist and lips on the back of my neck. I slept light in hopes of never missing a second of his passion and drive to induce a common pleasure. </p>
<p>We’d make love into the night… sometimes as though it would be the last time. I had been missing out on this for far too long, although a part of me knew I would never enjoy it with anyone besides Zayn. He knew every crevice of me. He knew to kiss my neck to send shivers down my spine and grasp my hair between his tattooed fingers. He knew that a simple kiss to my neck and grip around my waist at 3AM would always persuade me to turn around and pull him into an embrace. </p>
<p>I knew that the first thing I wanted to do in the morning was do it all over again, eat some breakfast and retire back to the room to take a small nap together. He’d whisper in my ear that I was beautiful, and I’d tell him that I was never going to leave him. I knew he loved it when I wore nothing to bed and had pink cheeks after. I knew he loved me, and he knew I loved him… we just hadn’t verbalised it yet and I didn’t even mind. A love like ours requires the perfect moment and for that, I’d wait forever just loving the life we were living. </p>
<p>That aside, something seemed to be bugging him especially today. After a few minor complaints about the room we had just arrived into and the way he seemed to be looking down at his phone more often than usual… I knew something was up. </p>
<p>It was nearing 9 at night. There was no secret that most of the men took advantage of the bar in such close proximity to the motel – a luxury in their eyes. I knew they’d all be there, and I knew Zayn had no interest in joining them. </p>
<p>He was sat on the bed, eyes firmly planted at the door as though he were expecting someone to come walking through. </p>
<p>I had finally finished hanging up all of my clothes from my duffle bag and placed my toiletry bag in the bathroom – a routine I was so used to by now. He still hadn’t budged. </p>
<p>“So… Any plans for tonight?” I peep up, only to see if I’d get a reaction. Nothing. He was concentrating intensely. </p>
<p>Hmm… I had to coax him from this train of thought. </p>
<p>“I was thinking of taking a bath,” I glance behind at the first tub I had encountered through the various motels we had stayed in. “Would you like to join me?” </p>
<p>He didn’t even look up, only furrowed his brow and continued to look at the door. This wouldn’t be the first time his thoughts had overtaken his actions and concentration. </p>
<p>“Zayn.” I snap lightly earning his gaze. “What’s the matter?” </p>
<p>“Err…” He mutters. “It’s nothin’ – you go ahead and get the water ready. I’ll join you in a sec.” </p>
<p>And back to the door his eyes go. I had just about had it at this point. </p>
<p>“I don’t think the door is going to do anything.” This seemed to grab his attention once more. “You’re different tonight… what’s going on?” </p>
<p>He bites his lip. </p>
<p>“It’s nothin’.” He shakes his head. “Well… nothing for you to worry about.” </p>
<p>I sit down on the bed next to him. </p>
<p>“You don’t need to leave me in the dark.” I murmur. “I can read you like a book. I know something is wrong and there’s no reason for you to hide what it is.” </p>
<p>His eyes meet mine and he snakes a hand down to my lap to link his fingers with mine. </p>
<p>“Blondie…” </p>
<p>“You can’t Blondie me.” I nudge him in a slightly playful way, but fully meant business. “Tell me what is bothering you.” </p>
<p>He flickers to the door once more before meeting my eyeline. </p>
<p>“Will you mind if I duck out tonight?” He seemed almost ashamed to say it. </p>
<p>“What for?” </p>
<p>He bites his lip. </p>
<p>“A job.” Oh. I understood now. It was only logical to assume that the money intake was slowing down with the lack of gang work and keeping everything under the radar. I always knew never to ask about it – not out of fear, but more to preserve Zayn’s want for me stray away from the very lifestyle he, or myself, cannot avoid any longer. </p>
<p>“I don’t mind.” I say in a small voice. A part of me knew he had to provide for everyone who had blindly followed us on this crazy and aimless journey. Another part of me wanted to relish in a man that had strayed from danger and living his life on the edge. I couldn’t bare calculating the problematic ratio for anything bad happening. “What job?” </p>
<p>“Blondie-”</p>
<p>I give him a look and he fails to a sigh. </p>
<p>“This job is different. It might take all night.” He mutters, glancing back at his hands. “Tomlinson found out about it earlier and a few of the guys want to take it on.” </p>
<p>I stay silent. As does he. </p>
<p>Seemingly, he had told me almost everything about himself as I had shared everything about myself with him. And not once… not a single time did he even elaborate on what he did. On the surface, I had archived news articles, and hearsay about drug manufacturing, dealing and usage that he seemingly didn’t even indulge in these days. But I had no concrete proof from the man himself of the antics he did to stay afloat and build a gang in the underbelly of this side of the country. </p>
<p>“We need… we need more cash Blondie.” He whispers. “And this job will tie us over for a while. We won’t need to stay in anymore shitty motels… I guarantee that. After this one, we can settle down and set up camp somewhere else. I promise.” </p>
<p>It was as though he were pitching this idea to me. I don’t think he realises that I’d follow him into a fire to show my support. </p>
<p>“No more running.” He grunts, glancing about at the place. “No more of these shitty uncomfortable beds… or bugs in the sink. You don’t deserve this. You didn’t leave your life for something like this.” </p>
<p>I pause and my stomach drops realising where he was going with this conversation.</p>
<p>“You don’t think… You don’t think I care about all that, do you?” I whisper, removing my hand from his. “I’m with you… because I want to be. I don’t care if we live out on the streets… as long as we’re together.” </p>
<p>He shakes his head. </p>
<p>“That’s not good enough.” He purses his lips. “You’re you…. You’re better than all this shit. I can grin and bear it cos’ I grew up bouncing from shitty room to shitty room like this, it’s fine. But you deserve more.” </p>
<p>“That’s not it.” I state plainly. “You don’t know me very well if you think pretty things are all I want.” </p>
<p>“That’s not what I mean.” He mutters. “I know you’re not like your parents… but I can’t bare sitting around and doing nothing about it. I want to provide a life for you, one way or another.”</p>
<p>“What’s the job?” </p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. </p>
<p>“It’s… an hour away. I’ve done things like this a million times – it’s nothing for you to worry about.” He lets out. “I don’t know if I’ll be back in an hour or the morning. But I’ll be back. I’ll be back with what we need, okay?” </p>
<p>I bite my lip and furrow my brow. I felt my heart break a little knowing he wanted nothing more than to build a life for me, when I was living the best one I could possibly live right now with him.</p>
<p>“Okay.” I whisper, not completely happy but well aware and respectful of what needs to be done. </p>
<p>He sighs and leans forward, his soft lips meeting mine. Something clicked inside of me at this moment. I needed to do more. I needed to be more. I needed to show Zayn that I was his and would never leave… I didn’t need anything fancy, or outrageous – just him. After his job, I’d make sure he knew that. </p>
<p>“You’ll be safe here.” He whispers. “I’ll try and get back as quick as possible.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” I whisper once more, cold at the lack of his touch. He escapes my embrace, stands to his feet and throws his gang jacket around his shoulders and suddenly, he’s a different person. His eyes, while remaining slightly solemn, harden and his jaw clenches. He was leaving behind the Zayn I only saw behind closed doors and began to put on the mask he showed the world. </p>
<p>He seemed apprehensive about his next move, but at this point, he knew I was far beyond oblivion. I knew what he had to do. </p>
<p>Swiftly, he reaches beneath the bed and pulls a gun he had stashed there without me knowing. It was silver and looked rather heavy. I’m not quite sure the make or body type, if it was loaded or if it had been used to end a life. I didn’t even budge. </p>
<p>He tucks in the back of his jeans and flouts his jacket behind him to cover it. He had his mind in a certain place and directed all of his energy into the job he had to pull off. </p>
<p>I meet his eyes and he sighs once more. </p>
<p>“You’ll be okay here.” </p>
<p>“Just… Just be safe.” I nod. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” </p>
<p>“Harry will stay here at the motel. Anything goes wrong… go to him first.” </p>
<p>I let out a weak smile, nerves invading my mind and soul – nerves I knew I had to supress in his presence or else he’d second guess his movements. </p>
<p>“I will.” </p>
<p>He leans forward and clasps my cheek in his hand. </p>
<p>“Bye Blondie.” He whispers this and kisses my lips. I wanted to stay here, with his hand around me and breath against mine forever. But I knew what he had to do. </p>
<p>“Bye.” </p>
<p>And with a sad smile, he turned and walked out of the door – my eyes only held that of the clear bulge his gun left in his jeans and the way that made me feel. The door closes and I sit and wait – hardly even moving. </p>
<p>Ten minutes in, I hear a symphony of bikes and then, the noises quieten. They were gone – I’m not sure where, or what they were doing. I didn’t know if this would put them all in grave danger, or if it would be another walk in the park. I didn’t know how to keep Zayn satisfied with thoughts divergent of classist notions I hardly even possessed. </p>
<p>Earlier, it was Zayn who sat here and stared at this door. Now, it was me. </p>
<p>Tomorrow. That is when I would change his mind about things… I couldn’t let this continue to eat him up. </p>
<p>The clock ticked on. 10pm… 10:30pm… 11pm… 12am. No signs – not even a phone call. I was beyond worry and knew I had to grin and bear it. I had to ride the wave of waiting. </p>
<p>Perhaps I could sleep it off – and wake up in his arms, ready to start tomorrow in order to instil the confidence in Zayn I so fell in love with. </p>
<p>A knock at the door coaxed me from the sleep I utilised as merely something to pass time and occupy myself. Like most nights, I dreamt of Zayn and all of the things I wanted to do with him. It was a sad reality waking up to a cold bed and I felt all of the nerves rush over me in this moment. </p>
<p>Another knock and I grunt to myself, barely rubbing my eyes before I am up and at the door. </p>
<p>Upon opening it, I felt both relief and sadness seeing Harry at the front door. Zayn and the others obviously hadn’t returned – but the way the young gang member was leant against the door frame, aviators covering his eyes with a cigarette lit and loosely hanging from his lips as though he had no care in the world – I knew that the gang must’ve been okay considering how easy-going he seemed. </p>
<p>“Morning Princess.” He grins and brushes past me, pulling the smoke from his lips to exhale into the room. I don’t think I even cared anymore. </p>
<p>I simply rub my eyes and return to bed, bunching myself up in the covers as he shuts the door and sprawls himself out on the couch. </p>
<p>“Have you heard from Zayn?” I murmur.</p>
<p>“Yeah I just got off the phone with him.” He grins again, arms thrown behind his head as he balances the cigarette between his teeth. “It went well.” </p>
<p>“Do you know exactly what they did?” I mutter.</p>
<p>“Yes.” He pops. “Not quite my place to tell, though.” </p>
<p>I shake my head and reach for my phone on the floor. </p>
<p>“I wish I knew what he was doing.” I didn’t know if I was speaking to Harry as a friend or a therapist. “Pretty sure I’m beyond caring what he does for a living.” </p>
<p>“That’s not the problem.” Harry sighs, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. “You lack perspective – always have.” </p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“Well, you’re fresh meat around here. You can’t help that – Malik can’t help that.” He shrugs, exhaling once more. “To you, the worst thing in the world is probably your parents. A lot of us have seen and done much worse – it’d freak you the fuck out.” </p>
<p>I sit up in a rut. </p>
<p>“I’m not so oblivious Harry.” I mutter. “I know that you guys carry guns… and there’s something about drugs, I’m sure.” </p>
<p>He grins. </p>
<p>“You’re cute, Blondie.” </p>
<p>“I’m serious!” I huff, almost exhausted. “I don’t scare easily. If I did, I wouldn’t be in bed with the President of the Damnation. I’d be with whoever my parents want me to be with.” </p>
<p>“That’s good and all… but Malik probably won’t crack.” He explains. “He’s made it very clear to us that we don’t tell ya’ what happens – for your protection.” </p>
<p>“My protection?” I utter. “I don’t need that. I’m his boyfriend, not his project. Gosh, I can’t believe that. I have a right to know.” </p>
<p>He rolls his eyes – probably for the third time this morning. </p>
<p>“A-And if it is something bad, then so what? I know you’re not saints. I know you have to do what you have to do.” </p>
<p>“You’re very liberal, ain’t ya?” </p>
<p>“No.” I shake my head. “I just love him. I want to know what he does and whether or not he’s being safe.” </p>
<p>“Zayn’s not in trouble.” He huffs, finally dropping the smugness and putting out his cigarette by pressing the tip into the unsuspecting coffee table so carelessly. “He’s the danger – not the guy in it.” </p>
<p>I sigh once more to my lap. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry for being pushy.” I murmur. “I’ve lived my whole life, kind of getting the gist of everything happening around me. It’s not your fault if you can’t tell me.” </p>
<p>He pauses and leans forward. </p>
<p>“Malik is a cold and callous bastard usually.” He begins. “I’ve had to basically crawl through shit to get to right here – where I need to be. I don’t tell Tomlinson this because he wouldn’t put up with it, but I know Zayn hates me. He uses me as a lacky… I doubt any apprentices he’s trained for the gang have ever had to do as much tedious work as me. But now that you’re here and you’re makin’ him happy, he is better to be around. I don’t know if this is a stretch at all, but he speaks to me as though I have a jacket and an opinion.” </p>
<p>Tucking my bottom lip beneath my teeth, I tuck the covers closer listening to the words he was saying. </p>
<p>“I didn’t go last night so I can’t tell ya’ how he managed the guys or ran the job. But I know as a person and with you in his life, he’s happier – he wasn’t in a good place before.” He finishes and I rub my eyes fully, wanting to be wide-awake to absorb the next bit of information I wanted to coax out of him.</p>
<p>“What was he like before?” </p>
<p>“Ah… Not the best, if I’m honest.” He chuckles out, taking his sunglasses off. “He’s a very addictive person. He’s been hooked on just about everything and god, he doesn’t take it very well.” </p>
<p>I felt my stomach churn hearing this. </p>
<p>“Tomlinson and I… we get high to have fun, you know?” He lets out. “Party drugs when we’re out with the guys and eating crazy edibles to see the stars.” </p>
<p>“Malik used to get high every night, just alone in his room and nobody could ever bother him – you didn’t know what guy he’d be behind that door. It was rough.” He raises his eyebrows. “And come to think of it… I don’t think he’s used since the day you guys met. Huh… I hadn’t even considered that.” </p>
<p>I think my only retaliation is to just stare back – I didn’t even know where to begin. </p>
<p>“He’s getting better, Blondie – I think that’s all that matters right now.” He sighs. “Keeping what we do and what he does a secret… that’s just him trying to persuade himself that he’s right for you.” </p>
<p>I don’t think Harry could have articulated it any better. Keeping what he did a secret… doing what he has to do – what he loves to do – a supressed thought not to be uttered… I had to respect it. </p>
<p>Zayn had been through a lot in his life. Perhaps a later date… perhaps that is when I’d get to the bottom of it.</p>
<p>“I understand.” I let him know, giving him a reassured smile. “I’m just… you know, me. I need to stop trying to figure him out and just let him be him.” </p>
<p>“See, you get it.” He grins back and sits himself up from his laid-out position. “He’ll come around one day – and you know, when we get back to Queensbury, it won’t be such a secret what we do when we’ll be back out every night.” </p>
<p>“Back to Queensbury?” I question it. It was rather close to Bradford – while it had been a week and a few days since my parents had made a fool out of me on the news, we hardly heard anything. This is most likely due to the fact that they knew exactly where I was and knew exactly who I was with. I had won this battle – unbeknownst the war to come. </p>
<p>“That’s where we’re heading, you and me.” He finally stands to his feet and from his back pocket, he pulls the pair of leather gloves he usually used when riding his motorcycle. “We’ll meet Malik and the others there.” </p>
<p>I couldn’t quite comprehend it – this must’ve been the plan the whole time. I was so far out of the loop. </p>
<p>“Don’t act surprised – Malik said he had texted you.” </p>
<p>And just as I look to my phone, I notice an unread message from about an hour ago that I hadn’t seen due to Harry’s entrance into the room. I sigh. Zayn was always one step ahead. </p>
<p>“Okay.” I just had to suck it up at this point. “I’ll get dressed.” </p>
<p>As I stand up, I notice how Harry was yet to move from his position right by my bed. I raise an eyebrow at this before I scurry to put on some clothes. </p>
<p>“Don’t think I didn’t notice you say you loved Zayn.” He lets out and I huff to myself, grabbing a green t-shirt of mine from the wardrobe. </p>
<p>“It’s the truth.” </p>
<p>“I know it is.” He grins. “Have you told him?” </p>
<p>“Of course not.” I face him. “I’m not strong enough to be the first one to say it.” </p>
<p>“But you’re strong enough to run away with a bunch of bikies? I don’t believe it.” He scoffs playfully. “You need to tell him – it’s no secret he’s completely in love with you.”</p>
<p>“I am going to tell him. I promise you that Harry.” </p>
<p>As I begin to stuff my bag full of the clothes hanging on the motel supplied hangars, I felt something snap inside of me. I could no longer go on as a stowaway – an accessory to take down my parent’s hatred for the man I love or as something to be protected and left alone in a motel all day. I wanted to contribute to the life he was about to build for me and looking down at my wrist once I was fully dressed, I knew exactly how. </p>
<p>“You mind if we make a stop before we go to Queensbury, Harry?” I let out, flouncing out of the bathroom wearing nothing more than my black jeans, Converse and green t-shirt. </p>
<p>“Course.” He hikes his jeans up and rests his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I’ll be down at the bike – you finish packing up here.” </p>
<p>And with a wink, he turns on his heel and meanders out of the room. </p>
<p>My mind was flicking through the many ways I could give to him everything he has given up for me. My conscience at this point, was a guilty one. I had added fuel to the fire by my stupid parents going on live TV and declaring that I was missing. I had left him alone with no confirmation that I’d even return. I was something to be looked after by a member of his gang or him himself. I couldn’t bare it anymore and this new life we were finally going to build in Queensbury, would be the exact place I’d enact this. </p>
<p>As I hiked up mine and Zayn’s bags, I sat on the bed after making it and brought up the unread text from Zayn. </p>
<p>‘Blondie – everything is alright here. Gonna’ make things up to you. Meet me in Queensbury. X’ </p>
<p>I couldn’t help but smile at it – I truly couldn’t wait to see his face. </p>
<p>After everything was packed, I made my way down to see Harry sat upon his bike, again with another lit cigarette. It was a change from Zayn being my usual ride, but I was never opposed to being with Harry. He was just about the closest thing I had to a best friend out here. </p>
<p>“Where to first?” He lets out, hastily handing me a helmet. </p>
<p>“Any shopping centre.” </p>
<p>“Can do.” He nods as I hop on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. </p>
<p>I was coming, Zayn. I’m going let him know how much I was willing to commit to this life. </p>
<p>We arrived at a rest stop, knowing that we had a strenuous journey ahead back to Queensbury by passing each and every one of the towns we had sought resort in. </p>
<p>Harry had gone off to buy some more cigarettes and some sort of food for the two of us to share while I quickly snuck off to exactly what I was looking for; a pawn shop. </p>
<p>“Okay.” I whisper to myself, ducking my head and entering the store that was thankfully empty beside the cashier at the front desk. Amidst old guitars, collectible cards, coins and stamps, gold and pre-loved clothing, I stood in front of him – a man who wanted nothing more than to help. </p>
<p>“Can I help you?” He lazily leant up against the desk and I stifle out a small friendly smile. </p>
<p>“Erm… I’d like to pawn something thank you.” </p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down. Clearing my throat, I continue. </p>
<p>“What have you got for me?” </p>
<p>“Well,” I murmur, glancing down at my wrist. “How much do think I could get for this?” </p>
<p>As I hold up the sterling silver watch I had received for my eighteenth birthday off of my parents, I felt a slight sense of sadness. This would be the final straw for me to let go of my old self – the one thing that every single day reminded me of my old life. It was a timepiece from a watchmaker in Germany. I wasn’t quite sure the exact price it would bring in, but I knew it would be enough to contribute. </p>
<p>“Hm…” He leans a little closer to examine it. </p>
<p>“Do you mind if I take a better look?” </p>
<p>I undo it and hand it over. </p>
<p>He presses his spectacles into his face and tilts his head to the side. </p>
<p>“This isn’t a… a Bradmark timepiece, is it?” He whispers and I simply nod, watching as he grabs out a magnifying glass. </p>
<p>“It’s authentic – I know that much.” He then retorts and I was satisfied that it may fetch a high price. </p>
<p>“Do you know what it’s worth?” </p>
<p>“At least ten thousand.” He says without a doubt. “It would be more – but the engraving beneath the watch face knocks it down a bit.” </p>
<p>“That’s fine – ten thousand is… more than enough.” I huff with a smile. </p>
<p>He flips it over and I glare down at the engraving. </p>
<p>‘To our pride and joy.’ </p>
<p>My parents rid of that notion fast. </p>
<p>More like their disappointment and shame. </p>
<p>“You’re sure you’d like to pawn it off?” He retains his posture a little better. “I mean, it’s probably going to go up in value – you could give it to any kids you have.” </p>
<p>“Yes, I’m sure.” I say, without any regret. “I have no use for it anymore.” </p>
<p>“Well, I’m happy to say ten thousand is my offer.” </p>
<p>“And I’m happy to accept.” I reach over to shake his hand. </p>
<p>After sorting out the logistics of the exchange, I left the store with a happy clerk, empty wrist and a stack of cash I quickly placed in my backpack before Harry had returned. </p>
<p>It was a small contribution. But I had to make it last. </p>
<p>“Fuck me the toilets in there are disgusting.” Harry comes grumbling over to the bike, a sandwich all wrapped up and in his hands with a crisp cigarette behind his ear. “If you need to go, go behind that tree over there.” </p>
<p>“I’m okay.” I chuckle, reaching for my helmet and going toward the seat. “I can hold it until we make the next stop.”</p>
<p>“Lucky bastard.” He retorts, opening the seat and placing the sandwiches beneath it. “We still have a three-hour ride – you reckon those pancakes will hold you over for another half an hour or so?” </p>
<p>I nod as he grasps his helmet and takes his seat. </p>
<p>As I join him and wrap my arms around his waist, I felt him jerk his keys into the ignition and rev the engine.</p>
<p>With that little bit of baggage exchanged for plenty of legal cash, we hit the road once more – edging closer and closer to the next chapter of my life. </p>
<p>Two more rest stops, a disgusting public bathroom and a chicken salad sandwich later, we arrived at a large warehouse back in Queensbury. It was mostly bare land this far out from the city but it just felt like home with all of the bikes parked out of the front. </p>
<p>Something about it seemed familiar almost. Industrial red brick and mortar, a rundown and unreadable sign and a wire fence guarding it and the gravel driveway. I had a feeling that this is where I needed to be. </p>
<p>It was rather large, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what its contents could possibly be. But I followed Harry off of the bike, stretched my legs and hiked up my bags. </p>
<p>“Here we are Blondie.” He grins toward me – always with all of the happiness in the world. “Zayn’s dad… this is where he ran things.” </p>
<p>I let out a small smile as the two of us edge a little closer. </p>
<p>“There are rooms for everybody in there, a gas pump in the back and a workshop to fix up the bikes. It’s perfect.” He explains, not-so subtly looking about for Louis’ bike. “They’re all probably asleep from being out all night.”</p>
<p>I follow him like a lost dog into the warehouse with its high ceilings, concrete floors and natural light being let in through the few windows. It smelt rather like gasoline in here, an old car hiked up upon the machinery only a mechanic would use. Quite a few of the guys’ bags were littered near the makeshift kitchen, one with a stove, a bench top, a fridge and never-ending amounts of dust and spider-webs. I knew the whole place needed a clean, but it wouldn’t be an impossible feat. There was a couch, a few chairs surrounding a table and a small TV unplugged from the wall and leant up against a garage door. </p>
<p>A small hallway diverged two walls beside the kitchen and I only assumed the rooms were down there – Zayn would be down there. Upon closer inspection, I noticed Damien by the couch, looking as though he was working on powering a mini fridge. He glances up and says his greeting before getting back to work. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna’ go use the loo then find Tomlinson.” Harry brushes past me. “Malik will be in the room down the end.” </p>
<p>I follow those simple instructions down the narrow hallway, spotting a communal bathroom – clearly needing to be cleaned and the rooms all lined up. It felt very reminiscent of the dorm and I felt very comfortable in this type of situation. When I reached the end, I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the dusty sign on the door reading ‘Malik.’ </p>
<p>While seeing this name usually I’d feel a sense of comfort and familiarity, instead I was cast over with things I hadn’t been told about. This room would have belonged to Zayn’s father – not him. </p>
<p>I quickly twist the doorknob and I’m met with a differing type of setup. It clearly seemed like a bigger room than the others considering it was down the end. A Queen bed sat in the corner of the room; boxes surrounded the space. There was a desk with old papers, a table with two chairs, a TV unplugged and leant against the wall, a window and wooden floorboards. </p>
<p>He was sat on the bed, doing up the laces of boots when he noticed me enter the room. </p>
<p>I had missed him – even if it had only been a night… It was the first night we had spent apart. </p>
<p>We didn’t need to say anything. I dropped our bags and embraced him into a hug that caused us to retire to the bed. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he buried his head into the nape of it. His muscular arms tightened around my waist and he felt utterly warm, as though he had just awoken from a nap. He was still in the same clothes from the night before, with his jacket hung up against the one of the chairs. He kissed my neck once, twice, three times before I leant back to find his lips with mine. </p>
<p>“Welcome to your new home.” He whispers, kissing me again and I hold him a little tighter this time. </p>
<p>“Have you slept? Are you okay?” I pull back. “Do I need to clean any wounds? Learn how to stitch something up?” </p>
<p>He smirks and holds runs his hands up and down my waist. </p>
<p>“I woke up maybe ten minutes ago and I’m perfect.” He retorts. “You can even check.” </p>
<p>I sigh and hold him once more. </p>
<p>“You look so pretty today, Blondie.” He murmurs into my hair and I fail to a smile against his shoulder. “I thought about you all night.” </p>
<p>“Come on, I can’t bare it any longer.” I utter out, leaning forward to his lips once more, wanting to feel him – be with him, do it all. </p>
<p>He only chuckles and leaves me with a small peck. </p>
<p>“Not right now baby.” He huskily retorts. “I told you I was going to make things up to you.” </p>
<p>“Then make things up to me.” I reason with him, making sure to project myself promptly with the big eyes I knew he always caved into. “Take off your clothes.” </p>
<p>He grins. </p>
<p>“As tempting as that is Blondie, I have somewhere I wanna’ take you.” </p>
<p>I blink a few times. </p>
<p>“What? Where?” </p>
<p>“I thought we could go on a… date?” He offers out as though it were the most foreign thing to him in the world. </p>
<p>“A date?” I tilt my head to the side. </p>
<p>“I promised you one, didn’t I?” </p>
<p>I felt those ever-present butterflies in my stomach erupt. </p>
<p>“O-Okay.” I stutter. “Where are you taking me?” </p>
<p>“It’s a surprise.” </p>
<p>I couldn’t hide my giddy little smile if I tried. </p>
<p>“You look perfect – meet me out at my bike?” </p>
<p>“We’re going now?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” He huffs. “Now hurry up. We needa’ leave before Tomlinson wakes up.” </p>
<p>I chuckle and obey his orders as best I can. </p>
<p>I scurry to his bike having left all of my bags inside and glance at my empty wrist once more. I was finally free from these shackles and could actually begin my plight within the gang. </p>
<p>He soon found me back at the bike, having changed into a plain grey t-shirt I knew he sourced from the bag I had brought down with me. He always looked so handsome – every little detail made up such a stunning final picture. The silver chain, rings on his finger, black bag hiked up on his back, rip in his jeans and the effortless way his hair fell onto his forehead. I was so lucky. </p>
<p>“Helmet.” He hands his over to me like clockwork and I strap it on. He gets on and I wrap my arms around him, leaning my head on his back. After riding with Harry all day, it felt nice to hold Zayn. </p>
<p>“Let’s go, Blondie.” </p>
<p>And so we sped off. I had so many questions to ask; where were we going? How did last night go? Are we settled down now? But they seemed redundant. I wanted to marinate in this one moment and take this process as it came. </p>
<p>We drove through the same road the street fight was on, a few industrial streets and a short run on the highway. We were nearing the national forest of Queensbury on the cusp of Bradford. Now this, it felt familiar. </p>
<p>As we pulled into the empty parking lot that led to a hiking path by the Queensbury river, I was rather taken aback. A date with Zayn… hm… I had only assumed it would be food related – perhaps at a bar or a pub. We’d have dinner, drink a little bit too much and do our best to keep our hands off of each other. But this, it seemed so far out of the left field and so utterly delightful. I couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. </p>
<p>“Come on,” he helps me off his bike and unclips my helmet. I grin into his embrace and peck his cheek. </p>
<p>Without saying a word, he trails his hand down to link his fingers with mine and sways them together as we head down a path. </p>
<p>It was lush and green – such a refreshing change from every stuffy motel we had existed in for so many days now. We needed fresh air, a change of pace and an appreciation for the outdoors. </p>
<p>“I can’t say I’m not surprised.” I chuckle as we trudge along. I had always been rather afraid of hiking… or camping… or orienteering… or walking outdoors in general… or any physical activity really, but I felt so utterly safe with Zayn – I always would. “I pegged $100 that we’d be going to that same pub with horrid service.” </p>
<p>“Well don’t get ahead of yourself, I was gonna’ take you there for dinner after.” He lets out and I grin, squeezing his hand tighter. </p>
<p>“Really though, I think we needed some air.” </p>
<p>“I know.” He hums. “We’ve been shacked up way too long.” </p>
<p>All that enters my ears are the crunching of the leaves and rocks we move as we walk, the trickling of an upcoming river and the wind breezing itself through the surrounding trees. It was so nice to see him in such natural light – he looked even more beautiful than I could ever imagine. </p>
<p>“I used to come here, you know?” He lets out. “I know all the ins and outs around here.” </p>
<p>“You used to go hiking?” My question was soaked in disbelief – yet quickly corrected when I noticed his ease and familiarity with the path. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t call it hiking.” He chuckles. “It’s just a place I used to go when I was younger.” </p>
<p>Truly, it didn’t take long for us to reach a little indent by the river. There was a picnic table and a breathtaking view of the small creek that had a hiking path run right past the stream. </p>
<p>Hastily, he sits us down upon the table and I suck in the fresh air. </p>
<p>“It’s so beautiful here.” I shut my eyes and take it all in, feeling his arm around me to pull me even closer. “Thank you – thank you for bringing me.” </p>
<p>He kisses my cheek warmly and pulls his bag from his back to his lap in one swift movement. </p>
<p>He pulls out one of my favourite chocolate bars and hands it over – knowing just how much I loved them. I chuckle, kiss his cheek back and unravel the foil. </p>
<p>“You’re probably thinking this place is sentimental to me or something.” He lets out, leaning back on his elbows. “Wanna’ know why I came out here?” </p>
<p>“Go on, tell me.” I smile before taking a bite of the milk chocolate and caramel emulsion – one of my favourites. The water continues to flow freely. </p>
<p>“See down that path?” He points to a diversion off the main hiking trial. I nod. “Tomlinson and I used to get fucked up here.” </p>
<p>I roll my eyes and he chuckles back at me. </p>
<p>“No cops come out here ever it’s the perfect place to get high.” He shrugs and presses a shoulder forward.</p>
<p>“I’m glad I know that, you know, for when I’m going to get high.” He seemed to enjoy this comment if his dumb little grin meant anything. </p>
<p>“He even lost his virginity out here.” He snorts, pulling a bottle of water from his bag and twisting its cap. </p>
<p>“Out here?” I screw my face up. “How does that even work?” </p>
<p>“Oh, who knows?” He shrugs. “Tomlinson always seems to find a way.” </p>
<p>“Well I hope you know you’re not gonna’ follow in his footsteps.” I shiver. “I’m keeping my clothes firmly on.” </p>
<p>He smirks and pulls me closer. </p>
<p>“I can get them off you in a second, you know?” </p>
<p>“I know and I’ve seen it happen.” I huff. “But I am enjoying my chocolate bar.” </p>
<p>He sighs and again leans back on his elbows, seemingly taking in the freshness of the air and the tranquillity in the atmosphere. It was so picturesque, and it truly felt like I was his boyfriend and we were just on a date – not like he was a wanted man and I was a dreadfully lovestruck runaway. </p>
<p>I wanted to stay in this moment forever. </p>
<p>The more I watched him, and how his eyes darted about the river as though it were something to be studied, I could barely hold in the affection I felt for him in my heart and soul. He was utterly beautiful and a true tangible goal I wanted to amount to. I wanted his happiness, his success, his dreams and all of his wants to become a reality for him. I don’t think I had ever held something or someone in such a high place. </p>
<p>He had saved me – from the trap of a life I almost fell down. He has shown me everything, instilled every type of feeling; pain, pleasure and euphoria. He held me so tight and kissed me with such passion, made love with me always as though it were going to be the last time, touched me with such care and precision and treated me like I would never have imagined somebody doing so. </p>
<p>I am so fucking in love with him. </p>
<p>“Blondie, you’re staring again.” He whispers, that small little smile peeking from the side of his pink lips. </p>
<p>He seemed so utterly happy. He left his jacket back at the warehouse and while his tattoos that reminded me of who he was were scattered up and down his arms, I still felt like this was a happier man sitting beside me. </p>
<p>I couldn’t bare it any longer. </p>
<p>“Zayn,” I suck in a breath, for the first time in my life without a single nerve to disturb me. </p>
<p>He tucks his bottom lip beneath his teeth. </p>
<p>“Zayn, I just… I just really love you.” </p>
<p>He smiles once… twice… three times before he glances to his lap and shakes his head. He reassured me with a hand on my thigh and I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press my lips to his. </p>
<p>“God.” He mutters to his thighs. “Never thought I’d hear that.” </p>
<p>“I love you.” I whisper back. “I love you so much.” </p>
<p>It felt so good to say out loud. </p>
<p>“I love who you are, what you do, how you do things, the way you make me feel.” I couldn’t even string together a sentence. “I love you, Zayn.” </p>
<p>He shakes his head once more and squeezes his eyes shut – as though I had said something completely outlandish. </p>
<p>“You love me?” He whispers back. “You… Niall… you love me?” </p>
<p>I nod my head so firmly. </p>
<p>“You’re too perfect to love someone like me.” He places a hand on the side of my cheek. “You’re everything that is pure in the world… and you’re giving me your heart?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” I say simply, staring back at him with everything I could muster. </p>
<p>“Blondie…” He sucks in a breath. “I don’t think I’ve been more in love with anything in my entire life.” </p>
<p>Just hearing these words… I truly melted. </p>
<p>“I’ve never even said it out loud to anyone.” He murmurs back. “I… I love you too… so much… so deeply… I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” </p>
<p>I lean forward – our foreheads just touching. </p>
<p>“I-I can’t believe you love me.” He gapes, in such disbelief and I squeeze my eyes firmly shut. “I fucking love you, Blondie. You make me so happy.” </p>
<p>I kiss his lips… his cheeks… his forehead… his nose… his chin – every part of his face. </p>
<p>“I’m yours and I’ll never stop.” I whisper and he bites his lip once more. </p>
<p>“You make me… You make me wanna’ change, Blondie.” He utters out. “I wanna’ be good. I wanna’ give you stability and sanity. I wanna’ love you like you deserve to be loved.” He mutters back to me and in this, I pull away from the embrace – seemingly to his dismay. </p>
<p>“I fell in love with you.” I reassure him. “All of you – not a single part left out.” </p>
<p>He tilts his head to the side once more. </p>
<p>“You don’t know the things I’ve done.” He trails off slowly. </p>
<p>“And I don’t need to know to know I love you.” I hit back, my hand reaching for his once more. </p>
<p>“Let me be good for you.” He cusps my jaw. “Let me be the man you need.” </p>
<p>I took this a sign that I needed to man up and stick up for this cause I had been fighting internally for so long. I had to throw it away and reincarnate into who I needed to be. I stood up between his legs and placed my hands firmly on his shoulders. He still had such a love-drenched trance in his eyes. </p>
<p>“I love you.” I whisper, and he still seemed to react in disbelief. I wanted to hold him and never let go. “All of you – every single part.” </p>
<p>“Blondie…” He emits. </p>
<p>“I don’t need you to be good for me.” I huff. “I’m not asking that of you – all I’m asking you to do is to love me.”</p>
<p>“And I do – I’ll never stop.” </p>
<p>“Good.” I nod, actually feeling fundamental for the first time in my life. “Again, I don’t want you to be good for me. If anything,… I’m gonna’ be bad for you.” </p>
<p>He leant forward, that sneaky smirk to his lips – although his eyes held all of the love and affection in the world. It was everything; he is everything. </p>
<p>“You’re gonna’ be bad for me, Blondie?” He whispers against my mouth and I nod firmly. </p>
<p>“I’ll be anything you need me too,” I hum. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I hid all my life behind my parents, I don’t want to hide from the main part of your life. I’m yours, let me help out, let me do what I can to make sure you – no, we – end up on top, Zayn.” </p>
<p>He bites his lip and holds me waist tighter. </p>
<p>“You’re speaking my language, Blondie.” He utters so quietly. </p>
<p>“Then let me in… I can be more for you.” I let out. “I can be everything you need me to be.” </p>
<p>“You already are that.” He sucks in a breath. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted – everything I’ve needed.”</p>
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